THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


WILLIAM  HENRY  OILMAN 


LETTERS 


WRITTEN  HOME 


By  WILLIAM  HENRY  OILMAN 


OF  EXETER,  NEW  HAMPSHIRE 


WHILE  ACTING  AS  SECRETARY  TO  COMMODORE 
JOHN  C.  LONG,  COMMANDER  OF  THE  U.  S.  STEAM 
FRIGATE  MERRIMAC,  ON  A  VOYAGE  TO  THE 
SOUTH  AMERICAN  COAST  AND  THE  ISLANDS  OF 
THE  SOUTH  PACIFIC,  IN  THE  YEARS  1857-1858 


EXETER,  NEW  HAMPSHIRE 
1911 


INTRODUCTORY 


As  a  matter  of  local  interest  the  contents  of  this  volume 
may  be  of  some  interest  to  citizens  of  this  town  and  Ports- 
mouth. Commodore  John  C.  Long,  the  commander  of  the 
United  States  Steam  Frigate  Merrimac,  was  a  native  of 
Portsmouth. 

William  H.  Oilman,  who  was  the  secretary  of  the  Com- 
modore on  the  voyage,  was  a  native  of  Exeter,  and  was  the 
composer  of  these  letters.  The  voyage  embraces  observa- 
tions of  the  South  American  coast;  the  Islands  of  the  South 
Pacific,  the  Sandwich  Islands,  Panama,  Peru  and  Chili. 

Mr.  Oilman's  father  was  a  native  of  Exeter.  At  maturity 
he  went  to  Philadelphia  and  formed  a  business  with  John 
G  ardiner.  After  a  term  of  years  he  settled  in  Exeter  and 
established  a  general  merchandise  business,  in  trade  and  farm. 
His  wife  was  the  daughter  of  John  Gardiner.  The  family 
was  made  up  of  Nathaniel,  John,  Frances,  Charles,  William, 
Gardiner  and  Nicholas  Gilman;  with  the  exception  of  one 
all  have  passed  away. 

Nathaniel  G.  Perry  made  a  voyage  with  Commodore  Long, 
as  secretary,  to  the  Mediterranean.  He  was  a  brother  of 
the  late  Dr.  William  G.  Perry,  of  Exeter,  and  cousin  of  Wil- 
liam H.  Gilman. 

EXETER,  N.  H.,  1911. 


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LETTERS 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 

December  20,  1857. 

Once  more  upon  the  waters,  dear  sister,  once  more;  again 
the  land  has  faded  away,  and  the  beautiful  mountains  of 
Brazil  are  lost  in  the  sea.  Wednesday  morning  last  the  Mer- 
rimac's  anchor  was  lifted  from  its  resting  place  in  the  bay  of 
Rio  de  Janeiro,  and  after  turning  gracefully  around,  our  good 
ship  showed  her  stern  to  the  heated  city.  I  took  my  position 
on  the  little  deck  in  the  stern,  and  could  but  compare  the 
scene  around  me  with  that  which  a  few  weeks  before  I  gazed 
upon  so  intently  when  leaving  Boston  harbor.  What  was 
wanting  there  was  present  here,  and,  I  may  add,  what  was 
wanting  here  was  present  there.  The  difference  is,  that  the 
glories  of  Rio  are  due  to  the  God  of  nature,  and  are  where 
He  left  them;  while  the  most  of  Boston  is  the  work  of  man. 
I  could  but  ask  myself  the  question,  what  would  have  been 
the  fate  of  this  highly  favored  spot  of  earth,  if  the  founders 
of  Boston  had  laid  its  foundations  here,  and  they  and  their 
children  had  prosecuted  their  work  with  the  same  vigor?  Rio 
Janeiro  has  its  mountains  and  its  expansive  bay,  but  this  is 
nearly  all,  that  made  me  wish  to  pause  as  the  Merrimac  went 
forth  to  meet  the  sea.  The  day  we  entered  this  interesting 
harbor  is  one  that  I  can  never  forget.  I  could  recollect  it 
for  its  excessive  heat,  if  for  nothing  else.  Again  and  again, 
I  went  to  the  upper  deck  to  feast  myself  with  the  views  of 
the  mountains  clothed  with  tropical  verdure,  and  again  and 
again  was  I  driven  below  by  the  heat.  The  pitch  ran  in 
streams  from  the  seams  of  the  deck,  and  the  sweat  almost 
fell  in  cascades  down  my  back.  (This  was  delightful  scenery, 
wasn't  it?  I  could  feel  it  without  seeing  it,  which  is  not  com- 


6 

mon  with  most  scenery.)  After  six  long,  tedious,  sea-sick  weeks 
on  the  ocean,  it  would  have  been  refreshing  to  have  opened  my 
eyes  on  a  sand  bank  or  a  barren  rock;  but  to  awake  in  the 
morning,  and  through  the  mist  that  hung  over  the  shore,  to  see 
the  distant  hills  and  mountains,  whose  summits  dwell  among 
the  clouds,  arise  abruptly  from  the  sea,  was  something  more 
to  me  than  the  mere  sight  of  land.  A  long  line  of  coast,  at 
first  scarcely  distinguishable  from  the  water,  would  have  an- 
swered for  that  purpose.  But  to  the  feelings  of  one  who, 
through  tedious  days  and  nights,  had  been  Ocean's  victim,  it 
was  pleasant  to  see  that  not  only  the  limits  to  her  power 
were  approaching,  but  that  they  were  coming  in  glory  and 
authority,  in  the  mountain-majesty  of  the  land.  As  we  ap- 
proached the  mouth  of  the  bay,  there  was  a  fine  opportunity 
for  viewing  the  distinct  mountains,  which  almost  surrounded 
Rio.  First  and  most  obvious  stands  the  Sugar  Loaf  immedi- 
ately before  us,  at  the  mouth  of  the  bay,  on  the  left,  as  we 
entered.  Its  name  well  indicates  its  shape,  and  there  are 
several  others,  of  a  similar  outline  in  this  mountainous  re- 
gion. The  Sugar  Loaf,  it  is  said,  has  been  climbed  but  by  a 
few  individuals,  and  those  American  and  Portuguese.  It 
seems  to  be  a  general  rendezvous  for  American  ship  captains 
and  naval  officers.  Among  other  ship  stores,  I  perceived  that 
old  sailors'  yarns  held  a  prominent  place.  Not  being  in  want 
of  such  articles,  I  passed  on  to  the  Hotel  Pharoux,  formerly 
a  noted  place  in  Rio,  drank  a  tumbler  of  ice  water  and  ate 
an  orange.  Unfortunately  we  were  not  in  the  season  for 
oranges,  but,  as  I  found  on  paying  the  bill,  we  were  in  season 
for  high  prices,  and  I  believe  it  lasts  the  whole  year.  Lazi- 
ness and  high  prices  naturally  enough  go  hand  in  hand.  The 
Brazilians  can  do  so  little  for  themselves,  that  they  ought  to 
appreciate  the  work  of  others,  and  they  certainly  do.  June 
and  July  are  the  best  months  for  the  orange  here,  but  I  found 
those  of  December  very  grateful.  The  salt  air  and  water 
very  much  increase  the  appetite  and  taste  for  fruits,  and  the 
poor  stomach  that  is  compelled  to  do  penance  at  sea  is  very 
apt  to  be  surfeited  on  shore. 


My  first  walk  was  into  the  palace  square.  You  would  sup- 
pose, perhaps,  that  it  was  beneath  the  shade  of  tropical  trees 
or  among  tropical  flowers.  No,  it  was  in  a  broiling  sun, 
among  dirty  dogs  and  negroes  and  sometimes  not  the  most 
agreeable  odors.  The  square  is  spacious  and  there  is  a  fine 
field  for  improvement  in  it.  There  is  a  large  granite  foun- 
tain there  which  is  constantly  surrounded  by  negroes  of  both 
sexes,  who  carry  off  the  water  in  small  barrels  or  earthen 
cisterns  on  their  heads.  It  is  quite  surprising  to  see  what 
strength  of  head  and  neck  these  creatures  have.  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  I  had  got  among  a  stiff  necked  genera- 
tion. Everything,  large  or  small,  seems  to  be  carried  by 
them  on  the  head.  Where  they  carry  their  ideas  I  don't 
know,  but  hope  their  brains  are  as  well  balanced  as  their 
heads.  By  their  movements  and  half  African,  half  Portu- 
guese jabber,  I  could  see  that  the  numerous  Dinahs  and  Sam- 
bos were  enjoying  themselves  in  the  regular  bantering  style 
of  the  negro,  whether  free  or  enslaved.  Their  bare  feet  in- 
dicated them  to  be  slaves,  though  I  am  told  that  some  of 
the  freemen  go  barefooted  to  save  themselves  from  being  en- 
listed in  the  army  or  National  Guard,  a  large  part  of  which 
is  negro. 

The  water  is  brought  into  the  city  from  Mts.  Corcorado 
and  Tyuca;  and  after  dashing  down  the  mountain  sides  in 
the  wildest  freedom,  that  is  still  regulated  by  law,  it  is  con- 
ducted along  in  aqueducts,  and  is  in  a  few  minutes  borne  off 
on  the  heads  of  slaves.  The  water  works  are  quite  credit- 
able to  the  city,  but  not  so  extensive  as  they  should  be  in 
such  a  dirty  place.  The  citizens,  I  should  think,  were  trou- 
bled with  a  partial  hydrophobia,  for  instead  of  letting  the 
water  come  into  the  city  with  the  full  power  of  its  mountain 
fall,  they  break  the  force  by  carrying  it  up  another  elevation 
barely  high  enough  to  drive  it  into  the  second  stories.  They 
are  afraid  of  its  breaking  the  pipes,  I  understood.  For  the 
same  reason,  I  suppose,  the  hogsheads  used  in  watering  the 
streets  have  the  sprinkler  (or  rather  dribbler,  I  should  call 
it,)  close  to  the  bunghole,  instead  of  being  near  the  ground 


8 

to  scatter  it  broadcast  under  the  pressure  of  the  falling  stream. 
A  good  sized  watering  pot  would  make  much  more  impres- 
sion. But  I  suppose  the  reaction  would  be  too  great  for  a 
city,  that  has  been  so  long  dirty,  to  be  suddenly  washed,  as 
there  would  be  danger  of  losing  its  identity. 

The  palace  was  formerly  the  residence  of  the  ruling  powers. 
Dom  Pedro  I,  the  predecessor  to  the  present  Emperor  (Dom 
Pedro  II),  resided  there;  but  it  is  now  used  only  on  state 
occasions,  I  think.  There  is  nothing  about  it  attractive, 
but  its  extent.  It  is  a  low,  flat,  dilapidated  looking  struc- 
ture, of  Portuguese  architecture.  At  its  chief  entrance  are 
stationed  some  of  the  negro  soldiers,  belonging  to  the  National 
Guard,  and  if  I  had  not  seen  some  of  them  asleep,  I  should 
inevitably  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  negro  could 
play  soldier  as  well  as  other  folks.  As  I  looked  at  the  dingy, 
yellow  color  of  the  palace,  in  which  it  sympathizes  with  the 
buildings  around  it,  the  yellow  hue  of  the  dust  (and  the  smells 
would  have  looked  yellow,  I  presume,  could  I  have  seen  them), 
I  bethought  myself  of  the  yellow  fever,  and  pushed  on  to 
the  Rua  Direita.  This  is  the  Wall  street  of  Rio,  and  is  the 
only  wide  one  in  the  city.  How  strange  it  is  that  the  south- 
ern Europeans  who  came  over  to  settle  on  this  continent, 
could  not  have  left  their  narrow  streets  in  Madrid  and  Lisbon. 
It  would  seem  that  the  wide  wastes  of  land  and  water  would 
have  enlarged  their  notions  in  this  respect,  but,  if  they  had 
left  their  prejudices  behind,  they  wouldn't  have  come  at  all 
(as  the  Irishman  would  say).  Prejudices  have  to  be  colonized 
as  well  as  pots  and  kettles. 


MONDAY,  December  21,  1857. 

As  I  walked  along  on  the  intensely  heated  pavements  of 
the  Rua  Direita  (Rio  Janeiro),  two  or  three  churches  attract- 
ed me  by  their  style  of  architecture,  which  I  was  rather  pleased 
with.  The  symbolic  cock  and  cross  terminated  their  steeples 
at  a  much  humbler  height  than  some  of  our  ecclesiastical 


roosters  attain  to,  through  their  lofty  ambition  perhaps  to  tell 
us  what's  in  the  wind.  Heaven  pointing  spires  are  beauti- 
fully emblematic,  as  well  as  ornamental,  so  long  as  they  stay 
with  us  amidst  the  crooked  and  cross  roads  of  earth,  but  when 
they  seek  to  go  to  heaven  themselves,  I  think  they  travel  far 
beyond  their  sphere.  The  day  after  we  arrived  was  the  anni- 
versary of  the  Emperor's  birth.  I  saw  the  Emperor  and  his 
spouse  in  the  church  in  rear  of  the  palace  attending  mass. 
He  is  a  much  better  looking  man  than  most  of  his  subjects; 
tall,  portly  and  dignified.  He  has  good  royal  blood  in  his 
veins,  I  believe,  from  the  house  of  Hapsburgh,  etc.,  but  not- 
withstanding this  he  is  said  to  be  a  man  of  intelligence  and 
humanity,  sincerely  desirous  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the 
people.  He  has  a  high  task  before  him,  to  advance  the 
standing  of  this  vast  empire  among  the  nations  of  the  earth. 
Brazil  has  resources  almost  without  limit,  but  she  wants  men. 
Commerce  has  here  and  there  dotted  the  long  line  of  sea 
coast  with  her  civilizing  marts,  but  their  influence  has  only 
slightly  penetrated  the  great  interior  wilderness.  But  I  am 
before  my  story.  I  have  spoken  of  the  Emperor,  and  not  of 
the  Empress.  They  are  both  large  and  of  light  complexion, 
unlike  the  people,  who  are  all  shaded  either  by  African,  Port- 
uguese, Indian  or  Moorish  darkness,  separately  or  variously 
mixed.  The  Emperor's  wife  has  a  rotundity  of  person,  and 
has  no  pretensions  to  beauty,  I  think.  Presuming  that  she 
is  a  worthy  partner  of  her  husband,  what  more  can  I  say  of 
her?  She  has  a  prominent  position,  and  if  possessed  of  pub- 
lic virtues,  may  show  them  to  the  world;  if  not,  she  will  get 
the  credit  of  being  the  Emperor's  wife,  and  of  manifesting 
the  household  virtues  to  her  husband.  I  would  rather  draw 
from  the  obscurity  the  Brazilian  women  and  speak  of  them, 
if  I  could;  but  I  can  only  say  of  them  that  they  possess  one 
quality,  at  least,  which  is  exceedingly  household  in  its  char- 
acter, and  that  is,  they  are  rarely  seen  in  public.  I  conversed 
with  only  three  or  four,  and  saw  but  few.  If  those  unseen 
are  as  plain  as  the  ones  whom  I  saw,  this  may  account  for 
their  privacy.  But  I  incline  to  think  that  a  native  shyness 


10 

and  jealousy  in  the  Portuguese  character  accounts  in  a  great 
measure. 

The  men  must  go  from  their  doors  to  attend  to  their  busi- 
ness, but  even  they  have  anything  but  an  out-door  look. 
There  is  a  want  of  openness  of  expression  about  them  as  they 
appear  in  the  street,  which  would  lead  the  stranger  to  think 
that  they  were  still  at  home,  and  ought  to  have  a  door  knocker 
in  their  hats.  The  sombre  hue  of  their  complexion  and  dress 
may  help  this  impression  somewhat,  but  all  the  colors  of  the 
rainbow  cannot  hide  or  draw  forth  the  manners  that  are  na- 
tive to  the  man. 

I  would  not  judge  of  the  feelings  of  this  people  from  a  very 
few  days'  superficial  observation.  From  the  little  that  I  saw 
of  them  in  their  homes,  and  what  I  heard,  I  should  think 
there  was  no  want  of  heartiness  in  their  familiar  and  private 
intercourse,  when  all  restraint  is  laid  aside.  There  is  a  strong 
home  feeling  here  undoubtedly.  The  very  places  of  business 
of  the  people  seem  to  be  a  part  of  their  homes.  But  a  home 
feeling  may  be  engendered  and  intensified  by  jealousy  and  ex- 
clusiveness.  How  much  this  is  the  case  here,  I  cannot  say. 
This  is  a  large  city,  and  all  city  homes  must  from  the  force 
of  circumstances  have  their  proper  share  of  exclusiveness,  or 
they  would  not  have  the  sacred  character  of  homes.  The  ex- 
clusiveness that  defends  that  sanctity  of  home  against  im- 
proper intruders,  or  preserves  its  propriety  from  unsuitable 
influences,  is  one  thing;  the  exclusiveness  that  establishes  in 
the  bosom  of  the  family  itself  a  jealous  suspicion  of  others 
and  nurses  it  into  a  pervading  sentiment,  is  quite  another. 
The  one  shuts  an  evil  out;  the  other  shuts  it  in.  It  turns 
each  house  into  a  petty  garrison,  taking,  as  it  were,  from  the 
state,  a  portion  of  its  own  prerogative  of  defence,  instead  of 
being  a  safeguard  of  all  the  manly  and  womanly  virtues  on 
which  the  state  may  rely  in  time  of  need,  or  a  nursery  from 
which  it  may  draw  the  elements  of  its  stability  and  strength. 
I  would  not  apply  these  general  observations  too  closely  to 
the  state  of  things  here,  so  as  to  detract  unjustly  from  the 
character  of  Brazilian  homes  as  they  appear  in  Rio.  I  had 


11 

too  hasty  a  glance  for  this.  But  their  aspect  is  not  a  cheer- 
ful one  externally,  and  the  absence  of  the  fireplace  would 
seem  to  a  New  Englander  to  be  in  itself  enough  to  account 
for  whatever  deficiencies  and  infirmities  there  may  be  within. 
How  they  form  a  family  circle  I  don't  know,  unless  it  is  done 
by  obtaining  a  license  from  the  Emperor. 

The  Emperor's  wife  and  ladies  generally,  you  see,  have 
broken  in  upon  my  walk  about  Rio;  so  that  I  shall  have  to 
go  back  to  the  church  and  start  again.  After  seeing  the  con- 
secrated wafer  transubstantiated,  as  much  as  it  ever  was  or 
ever  will  be,  I  presume,  in  the  presence  of  the  Emperor  and 
wife,  maid  of  honor,  ministers  of  state,  ambassadors,  Em- 
peror's body  guard,  and  spectators,  none  of  whom  were  ladies 
except  those  belonging  to  the  Emperor's  family,  I  walked  a 
short  distance  in  the  Rua  Direita,  as  far  as  the  Rua  Ouvidor, 
which  is  the  principal  street  in  Rio  for  fancy  stores.  It  is 
not  much  wider  than  one  of  our  broad,  generous  sidewalks 
in  Exeter.  Purchasing  seemed  so  much  like  being  cheated, 
that  I  preferred,  as  a  general  thing,  to  be  speculated  upon 
only  with  the  eyes.  The  making  of  one  purchase  would  seem 
to  involve  the  necessity  of  making  another,  as  in  making 
change  they  give  you  some  eight  or  ten  heavy  copper  coins, 
each  weighing  rather  more  than  two  of  our  old  fashioned 
cents  I  should  think;  and  there  seems  to  be  no  relief  from 
them  but  in  further  purchases,  or  engaging  the  services  of  a 
negro's  head.  Although  my  sea  legs  were  hardly  off,  I  thought 
there  was  no  need  of  such  ballast.  The  only  store  in  the 
Rua  Ouvidor  that  had  any  peculiar 'interest  was  that  where 
I  saw  a  beautiful  collection  of  feather  flowers.  Rio  has  quite 
a  reputation  abroad  for  the  manufacture  of  these  flowers. 
And  well  it  may,  for  no  other  city  has  the  advantages  that 
she  has.  The  Brazilian  forests  abound  in  the  bright  glories 
of  the  feathered  and  insect  creations.  But  nothing  shows  the 
sparsity  of  the  population  in  this  vast  empire,  better  than  the 
difficulty  with  which  birds  and  insects  are  procured  from  the 
interior.  The  flower  store  in  the  Ouvidor  is  the  principal  one 
in  Rio.  I  saw  imitations  of  many  of  the  tropical  flowers,  and 


12 

was  particularly  pleased  with  the  white  moss-rose,  which, 
although  not  having  the  brilliant  colors  of  some  of  the  others, 
I  thought  was  more  worthy  of  paradise  than  any  of  them. 
The  imitation  was  admirable.  The  store  is  kept  by  an  Eng- 
lish woman,  who  employs  some  thirty  or  forty  little  Brazil- 
ian girls,  who  themselves,  in  the  variety  of  colors  which  na- 
ture had  given  them,  formed  a  very  striking  bouquet,  I 
thought.  Feather  flowers  I  think  have  never  been  fashion- 
able in  the  United  States.  This  is  somewhat  remarkable,  as 
they  are  very  costly.  As  works  of  art,  they  are  certainly 
beautiful,  but  I  never  could  look  at  them  without  thinking 
how  much  more  beautiful  they  were  under  the  designing  hand 
of  nature,  when  they  had  a  living  beauty  indeed,  as  flowers 
of  the  wilderness,  and  flew  from  tree  to  tree,  from  mountain 
to  valley  unseen  by  man,  deriving  a  higher,  lustre  from  their 
kindly  uses,  at  once  robing  and  protecting  the  dwellers  of 
the  air,  now  fluttered  with  their  passions,  now  smoothed  in 
their  repose,  gorgeous  in  sunshine,  attractive  in  cloud,  giving 
a  sustaining  power  to  the  aerial  flight  and  a  new  charm  to 
the  sweet  melody  of  song. 

Leaving  the  feather  flower  store,  and  taking  a  look  in  at  a 
stationer's,  where  I  had  been  advised  to  call,  to  see  some 
beautiful  lithograph  views  of  Rio  and  suburbs  from  the  sur- 
rounding mountains,  I  retraced  my  steps  to  the  landing  and 
returned  to  the  ship. 

This  is  growing  into  a  pretty  long  story  I  see,  and  as  I  have 
not  yet  finished  with  my  walks  in  Rio,  I  will  stop  here  for 
to-day,  and  make  a  short  visit  to  the  upper  deck  to  see  the 
sun  quench  his  beams  in  the  dark  waters  of  the  sea.,  and  to 
improve  the  condition  of  my  sea  legs,  which  I  have  reason  to 
fear  have  been  somewhat  disabled  by  the  recent  land  visita- 
tion. 

P.  S.  Two  sharks  reported  themselves  to-day,  but,  as- 
certaining from  the  doctors  that  there  were  only  eight  or  ten 
on  the  sick  list,  concluded  that  the  chances  were  doubtful 
enough  to  justify  a  departure. 


13 

U.  S.  STEAMER  MERBIMAC,  AT  SEA, 

THURSDAY,  December  24,  1857. 

It  will  be  no  easy  task  to  make  a  sailor  out  of  me.  I  was 
so  well  the  first  three  or  four  days  out  of  Rio,  that  I  hoped 
my  sea  sickness  was  over  with,  at  least  till  we  were  off  Cape 
Horn;  but  my  land  worship  at  Rio  may  have  been  so  idol- 
atrous, that  Ocean  thought  it  necessary  to  exact  a  little  more 
penance.  To-day,  feeling  as  if  I  had  received  absolution,  I 
will  again  take  a  short  walk  with  you  in  Rio.  Jumping 
ashore  at  the  dirty  landing-place,  and  imagining  your  nose  to 
have  been  left  behind  for  a  few  minutes,  we  will  walk  across 
the  public  square  to  the  market-place,  a  very  inferior  en- 
closure compared  with  some  of  our  city  market  structures. 
Negroes  seem  to  be  stall  keepers  principally.  But  the  most 
noticeable  feature  in  it  is  the  great  quantity  of  onions  for 
sale.  I  should  think  quite  one-half  of  the  place  was  devoted 
to  this  vegetable.  I  thought  at  once  that  some,  at  least,  of 
the  peculiar  atmospheric  influences  of  the  city  were  sufficient- 
ly accounted  for  in  what  I  saw  before  me.  The  compara- 
tively small  space  devoted  to  meat,  fish  and  vegetables,  made 
me  think  of  Falstaff's  "but  one-half  penny's  worth  of  bread 
to  this  intolerable  deal  of  sack."  I  left  the  market,  thinking 
that  I  was  surrounded  by  a  population  of  two  hundred  thou- 
sand onion  eaters,  and  I  cannot  say,  as  we  sometimes  do  after 
getting  free  from  unpleasant  difficulties,  that  I  breathed  more 
freely  than  before.  My  observations  in  Brazilian  cookery 
afterwards  led  me  to  see  the  important  place  held  by  onions; 
and  I  was  still  more  forcibly  reminded  of  it  in  conversing 
with  different  individuals.  Whether  this  fact  has  any  con- 
nection with  the  seclusion  of  the  ladies,  I  don't  know. 

I  did  not  see  any  of  the  beautiful  tropical  flowers  for  sale 
at  the  market  places.  I  may  not  have  visited  them  at  the 
proper  time,  but  I  expected  to  see  a  fine  display.  It  may  be 
that  the  onions  are  too  overpowering  for  them.  There  was 
one  attraction,  however,  which  carried  the  thoughts  back  over 
the  vast  waste  of  waters.  I  mean  the  Baldwin  apples  from 
Boston.  When  I  ascertained,  however,  that  they  were  then 


sold  for  about  ten  cents,  and  had  been  previously  for  twenty 
cents  apiece,  my  thoughts  immediately  returned  to  Brazil. 
I  was  very  glad,  I  confess,  to  see  my  old  friends  well  appre- 
ciated. Their  bright,  fresh  appearance  was  creditable  to  the 
Boston  shippers;  and  they  lost  nothing  in  comparison  with 
the  orange,  banana  and  other  tropical  fruits. 

Speaking  of  flowers,  reminds  me  of  a  visit  to  a  public  garden 
in  the  city.  It  is  the  only  place  of  the  kind,  I  think,  there, 
but  not  so  interesting  as  the  botanical  gardens,  which  are 
about  eight  or  nine  miles  from  the  city,  and  distinguished 
principally  for  a  majestic  row  or  colonnade,  it  might  be  called, 
of  palm  trees.  This  tree  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  the 
Corinthian  column,  and  I  know  of  nothing  in  nature  more 
graceful.  At  the  public  garden  I  saw  many  of  the  tropical 
products,  including  the  coffee  tree,  which  is  the  staple  of  the 
country,  and  many  fruits,  which  we  are  not  familiar  with 
at  the  North.  There  were  but  few  flowers.  The  rhododen- 
dron, cactus,  of  which  there  are  several  varieties  visible  in  the 
gardens,  and  rose  were  the  only  familiar  ones  that  I  saw. 
The  rose  did  not  seem  to  me  to  have  as  much  fragrance  as 
at  the  North,  thought  it  may  have  been  my  fancy,  or  it  may 
have  been  out  of  its  season,  if,  like  many  of  the  flowers  and 
fruits,  it  has  its  season  of  peculiar  vigor.  These  sweet  gifts 
cannot  always  have  their  prime  at  the  bidding  of  an  eternal 
summer's  sun.  Nature  will  sometimes  restore  herself,  though 
no  winter's  vigorous  sleep  comes  to  her  aid.  I  was  struck, 
not  only  with  the  beauty  of  the  flowers,  but  also  with  the 
rich  green  and  fine  outline  of  the  leaves  of  many  of  the  trees. 
A  great  many  of  the  trees  are  densely  covered  with  numer- 
ous parasites,  the  most  common  of  which  is  the  air  plant. 
Such  is  the  moisture  of  the  air,  that  many  of  the  branches 
are  quite  hidden  by  these.  I  have  two  small  specimens  hang- 
ing in  my  room,  but  I  fear  that  the  salt  air  and  Cape  Horn 
chills  will  be  too  much  for  them.  They  begin  already  to  look 
a  little  sea-sick.'  As  I  was  about  bidding  farewell  to  tree, 
shrub,  flower  and  parasite,  my  attention  was  called  to  a  few 
negroes  who  lay  asleep  in  the  shade  of  some  benches,  with 


15 

their  shoes  off.  My  friend  told  me  that  no  one  was  admitted 
in  the  garden  without  shoes,  and  that  these  poor  creatures, 
who  were  probably  slaves,  had  undoubtedly  borrowed  the 
shoes  to  get  them  in  with  and  have  a  nap,  throwing  them  off 
afterwards  as  an  unusual  and  troublesome  luxury.  Old  shoes, 
I  think,  must  be  in  demand  in  Rio.  A  slave  who  gets  a  leg- 
acy of  his  master's  old  shoes  would  certainly  have  a  passport 
to  the  freedom  of  sleeping  in  the  public  garden,  at  least;  and 
I  dare  say,  the  freedom  of  sleep  would  be  much  more  a  "pur- 
suit of  happiness"  to  him,  than  the  freedom  of  speech  or  of 
limb.  No  Declaration  of  Independence  or  successful  revolu- 
tion can  secure  to  the  care-worn  sons  of  liberty  an  inheri- 
tance of  bodily  rest>  a  freedom  of  sleep.  "Eternal  vigilance 
is  the  price  of  liberty;"  but  bondage  has  its  prerogative  in 
the  deep  sleep  that  drops  unasked  upon  the  eyelids  of  the 
slave. 

When  the  negroes  of  Rio  are  unemployed,  they  may  be 
seen  in  all  directions  barefooted  and  bareheaded,  stretched 
out  asleep  under  a  broiling  Brazilian  sun. 

The  most  notable  slaves  in  Rio  seem  to  be  the  coffee  car- 
riers. Clusters  of  eight  or  ten  of  them  may  often  be  seen  in 
the  Rua  Direita  on  a  slow  trot  with  bags  on  their  heads, 
sometimes  keeping  time  by  humming  their  rude  African  dit- 
ties. They  are  not  so  noisy  as  they  were  formerly.  Many 
of  them  are  tall  and  well  made.  A  great  many  different 
tribes  in  Africa  are  represented  by  the  large  negro  population, 
and  each  one  bears  on  the  face  the  distinctive  tattoo  mark  of 
his  tribe. 

Of  the  public  institutions  of  the  city,  I  saw  but  little. 
There  are  a  few  creditable  schools,  I  understood,  and  hospi- 
tals that  would  be  honorable  to  any  place.  I  did  not  see  all 
the  "lions,"  and  don't  know  that  I  should  be  any  wiser  if  I 
had.  I  felt  more  interested  in  the  spectators,  and  had  but 
little  time  to  observe  them.  To  one  who  is  familiar  with  the 
progressive  cities  of  the  United  States,  there  is  nothing  in 
Rio  that  is  attractive,  but  much  that  is  repulsive.  This, 
however,  cannot  be  said  of  some  of  the  suburban  parts.  Boto 


16 

Fogo,  about  three  miles  from  the  city,  is  the  most  pleasant  of 
these.  Many  English  and  other  foreign  residents  live  here, 
and  some  of  the  houses  and  gardens  are  arranged  on  the  most 
liberal  scale.  The  Arabesque  style  of  the  buildings,  with  ver- 
andas, is  quite  picturesque.  A  walk  through  this  interesting 
district  was  quite  an  agreeable  contrast  to  the  narrow,  dirty 
streets  of  the  sity. 

My  most  important  excursion  out  of  the  city  was  to  Mt. 
Tijuca.  A  Frenchman  to  whom  I  had  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion kindly  brought  me  an  invitation  from  the  family  of 
his  father-in-law  to  dine  with  them  at  their  country  seat, 
and  pass  on  to  Tijuca  in  the  evening.  An  omnibus  ride 
of  four  miles  over  a  good  road  brought  me  to  the  family 
mansion  of  one  story,  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  road 
that  leads  up  through  the  valley  of  Tijuca.  I  was  intro- 
duced by  my  friends  into  a  very  interesting  family  of  native 
Brazilians.  The  house,  although  of  but  one  story,  I  found  to 
have  spacious  dimensions,  and  an  interior  worthy  of  a  palace. 
The  long  front  room  that  extended  the  width  of  the  build- 
ing, with  its  carpetless  floor,  and  numerous  high  arched  win- 
dows had  more  the  appearance  of  a  finely  finished  hall  than 
a  private  parlor.  There  was  far  less  furniture  than  in  most 
of  the  better  residences  in  the  United  States,  which,  with  the 
absence  of  the  fireplace,  gave  it  a  cool  and  airy  look,  in  con- 
formity with  the  demands  of  the  climate.  I  had  a  cordial 
greeting  from  the  different  members  of  the  family.  After  the 
different  parts  of  the  house  were  shown  me,  including  the 
chapel,  I  was  conducted  through  the  garden,  which  extended 
along  the  base  of  one  of  the  nearest  mountains,  and  occupied 
ten  or  twelve  acres.  The  regular  gravelled  walks  were  shaded 
by  fruit  trees,  among  which  was  the  cacao,  bearing  its  rich 
looking  honors.  The  orange  trees  were  laden  with  green 
fruit.  One  of  the  most  singular  looking  products  of  the  gar- 
den was  the  jack  fruit,  I  think  it  was  called,  which  I  presume 
is  a  species  of  the  bread  fruit.  It  seems  to  grow  mostly  from 
the  main  trunk  of  the  tree,  and  at  a  little  distance  appears  to 
be  attached  like  a  large  piece  of  sponge.  The  fruit  is  sweet, 


17 

but  coarse,  and  is  mostly  eaten  by  the  slaves.  One  of  the 
small  streams  that  flows  from  the  mountains  supplies  the 
house  and  garden  with  cool  water,  and  the  aqueducts  and 
fountains  are  among  the  most  attractive  features  of  the  place. 
But  its  chief  glory  to  me  was  its  fine,  commanding  situation. 
It  may  be  that  my  long  familiarity  with  salt  water  had  its 
effect  in  the  exhilaration  produced  by  the  scene  spread  out 
before  me,  and  its  tropical  characteristics  were  not  without 
their  influence,  perhaps,  but  as  I  walked  up  the  slope  of  this 
beautiful  garden  of  Anderahy,  and  stood  on  its  highest  ter- 
race, with  the  bold  mountains  that  still  looked  up  to  Tijuca 
for  a  background,  and  in  front,  the  city  with  its  red-tiled  roofs, 
its  extended  suburbs,  the  wide  expanse  of  bay,  dotted  with 
islands  and  ships,  and  bounded  beyond  by  the  eternal  hills 
half-hidden  in  the  clouds,  I  could  but  think  that  the  glory  of 
Paradise  was  there  "regained"  to  the  eye  at  least,  if  it  was 
still  morally  "lost"  to  the  hands  that  were  faintly  trying  to 
lay  hold  of  its  rewards  and  improve  its  blessings.  From  a 
picture  as  delightful  as  this  I  returned  with  my  friends  to  the 
house  and  sat  down  to  a  bountiful  table.  Three  of  the  family 
could  speak  English  tolerably  well,  and  one  of  them  had  trav- 
elled extensively  in  South  America  and  Europe.  The  con- 
versation was  considerably  diverted  by  the  ladies  inquiring 
about  the  fashion  of  wearing  hoops  in  the  United  States,  one 
that  has  not  yet  reached  Rio,  and  probably  never  will,  unless 
the  ladies  have  the  streets  widened.  The  Brazilian  meats  are 
not  equal  to  ours  by  any  means.  There  was  not  quite  so 
much  onion  in  the  dishes  as  I  was  prepared  to  find.  The 
cooking,  as  far  as  I  could  judge,  was  quite  good  of  its  kind, 
but  not  simple  enough.  They  have  too  much  spicing  and 
compounding  for  any  human  stomach. 

As  it  was  late,  I  wished  very  much  too,  that  the  number  of 
courses  might  be  somewhat  abridged,  as  I  was  desirous  to 
reach  my  destination,  four  or  five  miles  beyond  up  the  moun- 
tain, before  dark.  After  dinner  I  was  invited  to  stop  through 
the  night  and  go  on  the  next  day;  but  I  respectfully  declined, 
as  I  wished  to  return  the  following  morning.  My  French 


18 

friend  and  his  brother-in-law  insisted  on  accompanying  me, 
to  return  the  same  evening.  So,  after  I  bid  the  family  fare- 
well, we  started  off  on  our  mules  for  the  hotel  boarding  house 
of  Mr.  Bennett,  an  Englishman.  The  road  is  well  paved  about 
a  half  of  a  mile,  and  can  be  ascended  by  carriages  farther 
than  this.  The  ride  was  full  of  interest  to  me,  and  it  would 
have  been  much  more  agreeable  to  me  to  walk,  as  I  should 
have  done,  had  it  not  been  so  late  in  the  day.  We  jumped 
off  our  mules  and  walked  a  short  distance  to  see  where  the 
mountain  water  of  Tijuca  is  conducted  through  a  long  arched 
passage  way  into  the  aqueduct  that  carries  it  to  the  city.  Re- 
mounting, we  spurred  our  sluggish  animals  on  to  a  turn  in 
the  road  that  opened  to  our  eyes  the  vast  valley  below.  But 
it  was  a  shade  too  dark.  The  gloom  of  night  was  fast  setting 
over  city,  country  and  bay,  and  the  bright  tropical  vegetation 
that  seemed  to  give  a  higher  lustre  to  the  day,  now  darken- 
ing under  the  shadow,  gave  a  deeper  shade  to  the  night.  We 
hurried  on,  and  after  losing  our  way  for  a  short  time  by  turn- 
ing off  at  the  wrong  place,  we  reached  Mr.  Bennett's  about 
nine  o'clock.  Taking  leave  of  my  friends,  who  would  return 
that  night,  I  was  received  by  Mr.  Bennett  in  his  plain,  hearty, 
English  manner.  He  keeps  a  boarding  house  for  Englishmen 
who  have  their  business  in  the  city,  and  by  omnibus  and  mule 
go  out  to  this  quiet  retreat  after  the  business  hours  of  the 
day,  returning  to  the  city  after  an  early  breakfast  in  the 
morning.  This  is  English  perseverance  and  English  sense,  to 
travel  twenty  miles  a  day,  although  on  hard  mules  and  in  a 
heavy  omnibus  over  a  rough  road,  to  get  pure  air  and  water 
and  a  good  English  supper  and  breakfast,  away  from  the  yel- 
low fever  atmosphere  of  the  pestilent  city.  It  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  that  they  have  a  controlling  influence  in  the 
business  of  Rio.  They  are  now  building  a  railroad  as  far  up 
the  valley  of  Tijuca  as  possible,  for  their  accommodation.  I 
was  pleased  with  the  neatness  and  substantial  look  of  every- 
thing about  this  English  home,  and,  had  it  been  convenient, 
would  have  passed  two  or  three  days  there,  but  I  arose  next 
morning  with  the  lark,  and,  after  surveying  the  mountain 


19 

scenery  about  two  hours,  breakfasted  with  Mr.  Bennett's 
friends  and  returned  with  them  to  the  city.  The  summit  of 
Tijuca  was  too  far  off  to  ascend  to,  unless  the  whole  day  were 
taken  for  it.  The  ride  down  brought  me  again  in  view  of 
the  scenery  that  bound  my  attention  the  day  before.  The 
sun  of  early  morning  covered  it  with  its  glories,  and  I  will  not 
diminish  the  effect  of  a  single  ray  by  attempting  a  description. 
Besides,  my  head  is  still  a  little  uncomfortable,  and  writing 
has  been  a  burden  to  me  all  day;  but  I  sat  down  to  finish 
this  long  story,  and  fearing  that  I  shall  tire  you  out,  must 
hasten  to  a  close. 

During  the  fortnight  we  were  in  Rio,  it  either  rained  or 
was  excessively  hot  about  two-thirds  of  the  time,  and  there 
were  but  three  or  four  days  when  it  was  comfortable  or  pru- 
dent to  be  exposed  in  such  an  atmosphere.  As  for  the  city, 
I  saw  enough  of  it  in  this  short  space,  and  did  not  regret 
leaving  it.  But  as  we  weighed  anchor  and  steamed  slowly 
out  of  the  bay,  I  confess  that  there  were  several  places  of  in- 
terest in  the  suburbs  and  country,  that  I  had  no  fit  oppor- 
tunity to  visit,  which  made  me  look  back  with  a  somewhat 
longing  eye.  Although  I  could  not  go  back  and  examine  the 
details  of  the  scene,  I  had,  what  was  better,  the  vast  pano- 
rama again  spread  out  around  me,  and  still  with  the  fresh- 
ness of  a  new  creation.  The  same  magnificent  outline  was 
there  as  before,  carved  out  against  the  morning  sky.  But 
wonders  had  been  wrought  by  the  shifting  scenes  in  the 
mighty  amphitheatre  below!  Day  by  day,  hour  by  hour,  the 
mountain  forms  grew  dim,  or  fair,  in  changing  lights  and  ele- 
mental air.  Whether  standing  boldly  forth  in  the  clear  full 
light,  or  confused  with  hazy  vapors,  like  the  mystery  of  a 
dream;  or  hidden  by  the  damp  thick  mists  that  drew  aside 
at  the  approach  of  the  morning  sun;  or  away  from  mortal 
gaze  holding  high  converse  in  the  veiling  clouds;  or  looming 
up  in  the  grandeur  of  night  silent  and  dark,  encircling  the 
city's  fires,  like  a  round  of  giant  sentinels,  they  looked  in  al- 
tered moods,  ever  changing,  though  still  the  same,  in  sun- 
shine, cloud  and  storm.  As  they  retreated  at  our  coming 


20 

they  now  followed  us  in  our  going  forth;  and  one  by  one  their 
heads  went  down  in  glory  beneath  the  waters  of  the  sea.  At 
last  the  summits  of  the  Organ  Mountains  were  seen  in  the  dim 
distance  just  above  the  way,  sole  tenants  of  the  air,  their 
rocky  pipes  penetrating  the  sky,  as  if  to  mingle  the  harmonies 
of  earth  with  the  music  of  the  spheres. 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 

FRIDAY,  December  25,  1857. 

This  hardly  seems  like  Christmas.  Save  the  customary 
greetings  of  the  season,  and  perhaps  the  more  than  usual  hi- 
larious laughter  among  the  midshipmen  in  the  steerage,  there 
is  but  little  to  indicate  the  arrival  of  the  great  Christian  an- 
niversary on  this  beautiful  Friday.  Certainly  there  are  no 
outward  signs  of  its  presence;  no  frosty  air  or  chilling  winds; 
no  late  rising  or  early  setting  sun;  no  gloomy  ocean  with  its 
cold,  dark,  leaden  blue.  The  air  has  been  as  fresh  and  balmy 
as  a  morn  in  June,  and  the  ocean  as  genial  as  the  air;  his  mil- 
lion clear  blue  waves  reflecting  the  mild  azure  of  the  sky,  and 
raising  their  white  caps  to  the  passing  winds. 

Aurora's  "  rosy  light "  foresaw  the  early  sun, 
Whose  cheerful  beam  prolonged  the  summer's  day, 
And  when  his  lengthened  race  was  run, 
He  left  behind  his  long  and  lingering  ray. 

There  are  no  holidays  on  board  a  man-of-war  at  sea.  Every 
day,  whether  sacred  or  profane,  brings  with  it  its  routine  of 
duties,  from  the  drum  beat  to  quarters  at  9  o'clock,  to  the  watch 
call  of  the  boatswain's  mates  at  12  in  the  night.  The  holiday 
festivities  must  find  their  places  amid  the  sterner  exactions  of 
discipline,  and  this  they  are  very  sure  to  do.  They  certainly 
have  on  this  occasion,  quite  as  much  as  and  perhaps  a  little 
more  than  has  been  agreeable  to  the  commanding  officers. 


21 

All  the  messes  have  had  the  best  dinners  that  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case  would  admit  of;  and  sea  circumstances, 
as  far  as  dinners  are  concerned,  are  not  apt  to  be  boundless. 
You  can  see  the  end  of  the  rope  without  a  spy  glass.  In  the 
mess  to  which  I  belong,  we  had  a  very  creditable  dinner;  one 
fit  for  any  Christian  to  eat.  As  you  may  be  curious  to  know 
the  bill  of  fare,  I  will  give  it  as  far  as  I  recollect.  The  first 
course  was  soup,  which  was  to-day,  and  generally  is,  very 
good.  When  flesh  and  fish  fail,  either  because  there  are  none, 
or  because  there  had  better  be  none,  you  can  generally  fall 
back  with  confidence  upon  soup.  The  next  was  preserved 
salmon,  which  was  good,  and  far  better  than  the  preserved 
meats,  I  think.  Next  came  the  solids  and  substantiate  and 
some  of  them  were  very  much  of  this  character.  As  for  the 
chickens,  they  were  decidedly  too  aerial  to  belong  properly  to 
this  course,  and  were  out  of  place.  They  would  have  made 
excellent  stimulators  to  the  appetite  under  any  circumstances, 
particularly  under  the  impression  that  there  was  nothing  else 
to  eat.  They  should  have  preceded  the  soup  and  taken  the 
lead  at  the  dinner,  as  their  legs  entitled  them  to  do;  but  as 
it  was,  thinking  that  we  were  going  all  the  time  from  the  less 
to  the  more  substantial,  it  must  be  confessed  that  it  made 
quite  a  reaction  in  the  emotions.  We  thought  that  the  cli- 
max of  the  dinner  was  still  ahead  of  us;  but  when  we  saw 
the  chickens  we  were  afraid  that  we  had  passed  it.  Our 
chickens  were  purchased  in  Rio,  and  either  sorrow  at  being 
hatched  in  such  a  place,  or  too  much  crowing  on  getting 
away,  or  their  sea  experience,  or  all  combined,  had  not  been 
favorable  to  a  rotundity  of  outline.  The  other  parts  of  this 
course  consisted  of  wines,  salt  beef,  beef  a  la  mode,  ham, 
chicken  pie,  vegetables,  etc.,  etc.  Salt  beef  is,  of  course,  a 
great  stand-by  at  sea.  There  is  such  a  thing,  however,  as 
standing-by  too  long.  There  is  reason  in  all  things,  but  none 
in  expecting  salt  beef  to  stand  by  anybody,  when  it  requires 
all  its  resources,  and  more  too,  to  keep  itself.  Instead  of 
standing  by  anybody,  under  such  circumstances,  there  is 
danger  of  its  bringing  somebody  down;  and,  therefore,  it  had 


22 

better  fall  itself  in  season,  and  get  the  credit  from  all  sympa- 
thizing friends  of  what  it  might  have  been  under  more  favor- 
able auspices.  The  beef  a  la  mode  was  preserved  beef,  taken 
from  the  cans,  with  the  addition  of  a  few  sliced  potatoes. 
Unless  it  was  the  potatoes,  I  do  not  know  what  the  "a  la 
mode  "  referred  to  in  particular.  If  the  reference  was  to  the 
beef  in  general,  I  cannot  think  that  it  was  very  appropriate, 
as  it  was  not  exactly  after  the  manner  of  beef,  having  lost 
most  of  its  original  flavor  in  the  preserving  cans.  Unlike  the 
salt  beef,  it  had  been  kept  a  little  too  much.  The  preserved 
beef  had  been  kept  to  death;  and  the  salt  beef,  I  should 
judge  from  the  taste  and  appearance,  had  been  kept  to  the 
life. 

You  will  think,  I  fear,  that  we  had  a  very  sorry  dinner. 
Not  at  all;  these  were  only  a  few  varieties  to  spice  the  occa- 
sion with  by  way  of  contrast.  They  had  the  effect  to  throw 
into  bold  relief  the  ham,  which  was  very  fine,  and  being  of 
the  first  quality  of  the  Virginia  school,  and  I  presume  from 
one  of  the  "first  families,"  it  was  not  only  the  centre  of  all 
eyes,  but  of  all  appetites.  The  chicken  pie  was  what  might  be 
expected  from  such  chickens.  I  believe  the  crust  did  not  im- 
prove their  collapsed  condition  at  all,  only  so  long  as  it  con- 
cealed it.  The  crust,  like  the  soup,  had  something  reliable 
about  it.  You  knew  where  to  find  it;  and  that  is  more  than 
can  be  said  of  the  chickens.  After  these  came  the  dessert, 
mince  pies,  preserves,  nuts,  etc.  The  pies  were  not  quite 
orthodox  in  all  respects,  but  they  were  heartily  eaten,  and  it 
matters  not  if  they  were  non-conformists  to  the  New  England 
faith. 

How  much  better  than  a  good  meal  is  a  good  appetite. 
After  the  cloth  was  removed  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon 
was  occupied  with  toasts,  songs  and  merriment.  The  health 
of  wives,  sweethearts,  relations  and  friends  was  duly  remem- 
bered. So  much  for  our  sea  Christmas  dinner  off  the  coast 
of  Buenos  Ayres.  Do  not  judge  it  by  its  slight  imperfections. 
Our  appetites  overlooked  them  'ere  charity  forgave. 


23 

FRIDAY,  January  1,  1858. 

I  have  given  my  journal  the  usual  holiday  freedom,  you 
perceive,  and  as  we  are  approaching  Cape  Horn,  fearing  that 
it  may  exact  another  freedom  there,  which  circumstances  may 
compel  me  to  grant,  it  becomes  me  at  least  to  note  the  waste 
of  time  to-day,  and  wish  you  and  all  at  home  a  "  happy  new 
year."  Our  floating,  weather-beaten  home  has  presented  any- 
thing but  a  holiday  appearance  during  the  last  week. 

Going  around  Cape  Horn  is  said  to  be  no  holiday  affair  in 
winter  or  summer.  We  have  the  advantage,  however,  of  the 
long  summer  days.  It  is  now  almost  light  enough  on  deck 
at  9  o'clock  in  the  night  to  read  clear  print.  In  the  winter 
the  sun  is  visible  but  a  few  hours,  and  it  is  often  necesssary 
to  keep  lights  through  the  day.  Since  leaving  Rio,  many  of 
the  exercises  of  the  ship  have  been  dispensed  with,  to  pre- 
pare her  for  the  passage  around  the  Horn.  She  is  the  largest 
vessel  that  has  ever  appeared  in  these  waters,  and  it  will  be 
quite  an  epoch  in  nautical  history  if  she  doubles  the  cape  suc- 
cessfully. Everything  possible  has  been  done  to  ensure  the 
safety  and  comfort  of  the  ship.  The  top-gallant  masts  have 
been  taken  down,  storm-sails  set,  guns  lashed,  the  port  in 
front  of  my  little  cabin  closed  and  corked,  with  a  great  many 
other  demonstrations,  that  seem  to  signify  breakers  ahead. 
It  is  somewhat  alarming  to  a  landsman  to  see  so  many  pre- 
cautions. I  begin  to  realize  that  Cape  Horn  is  the  most  dreaded 
point  of  all  to  mariners;  and  shall  be  disappointed  if  we  do 
not  have  a  taste  of  its  dangers.  Thus  far  we  have  been  highly 
favored.  We  have  not  experienced  a  gale  since  leaving  Boston. 
Every  day  from  Rio  has  been  pleasant,  and  the  winds  generally 
have  been  favorable.  A  merchant  ship,  with  our  opportun- 
ities, would  probably  have  been  off  the  cape  at  this  time. 
Men-of-war  do  not  run  for  markets,  and  spare  their  canvass 
a  little  more. 

But  while  we  look  forward  with  much  concern  to  the  great 
stormy  point  that  terminates  the  continental  barrier  between 
the  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  that  witnesses  the  mingling  of  their 
floods  and  the  rushing  of  their  winds,  we  have  just  passed 


24 

the  dividing  line  of  an  old  and  new  year,  which  in  the  eter- 
nity of  time  separates  the  ages  that  are  passed  from  those 
that  are  to  come.  There  seems  to  be  something  in  sea  life 
which  causes  us  to  a  certain  extent  to  disregard  some  of  the 
arbitrary  divisions  of  time.  This  is  more  particularly  the 
case  with  the  days  and  weeks.  Where  daily  duties  do  not 
continually  call  them  into  mind,  we  are  very  apt  to  forget  or 
lose  sight  of  their  names  and  their  numbers.  The  flight  of 
the  hours  and  half  hours  is  announced  by  the  bell,  and  there 
are  special  functions  belonging  to  them,  constantly  coming 
along  in  a  man-of-war,  that  mark  their  progress.  But  there 
is  little  to  distinguish  the  days  and  weeks  from  those  that 
are  gone  before  or  come  after.  There  are  none  of  the  thou- 
sand details  which  make  the  irregular,  though  ever-flowing  cur- 
rent of  events,  and  give  to  yesterday  a  light  or  shadow  that 
does  not  belong  to  to-day,  and  to-day  a  different  experience 
from  that  of  to-morrow.  Rising  as  it  does,  above  the  con- 
ventional limits  of  days,  weeks,  months,  we  have  hardly  any- 
thing to  compare  time  with  as  it  regards  them,  but  the  con- 
stantly recurring  changes  of  the  seasons,  the  succession  of 
light  and  darkness,  and  easily  lose  it  in  their  unvarying  uni- 
formity. 

Far  away  from  the  throbbing  pulsations  of  human  life,  its 
various  interests,  its  busy  trifles,  its  vast  concerns,  which 
either  drive  the  very  thought  of  time  away  or  connect  it  with 
convenient  and  accidental  associations,  nothing  seems  to 
stand  between  us  and  the  revolving  year,  but  the  mighty  and 
unceasing  operations  of  nature,  and  the  changing  scenes  in 
the  great  elemental  drama  around  and  above  us.  Time  flows 
on  like  the  vast  watery  world  around  us,  whose  unseen  "bounds 
shadow  forth  the  eternity  whence  it  came  and  whither  it 
hastens.  Associated  as  it  here  is,  outside  of  the  few  planks 
that  hold  us  together,  with  the  order  and  procession  of  nature; 
starting,  as  it  were,  to  begin  a  new  race,  with  the  dayspring 
on  high,  following  the  sun  in  his  course  to  measure  out  the 
day,  dwelling  with  the  darkness  at  night,  it  has  a  sublime 
significance  that  the  human  epochs  of  the  world  can  never 


25 

impart;  and  happy  is  he,  whom  that  sublimity  will  inspire 
with  wisdom  rather  than  oppress  by  awe;  who  can  look  forth 
over  these  rolling  waters  as  upon  the  tide  of  time,  and  from 
all  the  varied  lessons  that  their  waves  will  teach,  learn  anew 
the  power  of  moments  and  escape  the  wrecks  of  years. 


SUNDAY,  January  3. 

This  was  like  one  of  our  most  delightful  mornings  in  May, 
but  has  become  quite  raw  and  chilly  this  evening,  so  that 
overcoats  are  quite  necessary.  Our  latitude  was  nearly  46 
degrees  at  12  o'clock.  Although  it  is  summer  in  this  region, 
it  is  a  Patagonian  summer,  and  has  been  cold  enough  for 
outer  garments  several  days  past.  We  have  no  fires  to  gather 
around,  except  the  galley,  which  is  the  general  cook  stove  of 
the  ship,  and  usually  surrounded  by  steam,  smoke  and  stew- 
ards or  cooks  preparing  dishes  for  the  different  messes,  talk- 
ing the  news  of  the  ship  and  bantering  each  other,  so  that  we 
do  not  get  our  caloric  in  an  unmixed  state.  Speaking  of  news, 
reminds  me  of  some  Boston  papers  which  I  saw  at  Rio,  hav- 
ing a  fortnight's  later  date  than  our  time  of  sailing.  Of  course, 
they  were  greedily  read,  and,  what  is  not  always  confessed  at 
home  from  their  commonness,  they  were  full  of  news.  The 
ocean  has  a  very  poor  respect  for  daily  papers.  I  think  the 
next  man  who  makes  a  geography  would  do  well  to  describe 
it  as  "an  extensive  sheet  of  water  where  the  price  currents 
and  the  general  social  and  political  current  of  events  seldom 
or  never  circulate."  This  would  certainly  be  a  very  vivid  de- 
scription to  an  American,  and  one  that  he  would  appreciate 
fully.  I  do  not  think,  however,  it  would  do  any  of  our  coun- 
trymen harm  to  leave  their  newspapers  awhile  and  read  this 
vast  "sheet"  which  was  not  "struck  off"  for  a  day,  but 
which,  while  it  is  "new  every  morning  and  fresh  every  even- 
ing," was  spread  out  by  the  Almighty  for  the  study  and  won- 
der of  ages.  Our  respectable  and  ably  conducted  newspapers 
are  certainly  among  our  choicest  blessings,  and  if,  while  they 


26 

diffuse  knowledge  through  all  ranks,  they  do  not  sufficiently 
impress  it,  or  stimulate  independent  thought,  the  fault  is  not 
with  them.  Such  is  our  morbid  passion  for  the  "news"  that, 
paying  no  respect  to  the  "olds,"  we  throw  aside  the  paper 
of  to-day,  perhaps  with  an  unsatisfied  air,  while  it  is  yet  damp 
from  the  press,  and  then  anxiously  look  forward  to  the  issue 
of  to-morrow.  But  let  any  of  our  restless  fellow  citizens,  who 
are  always  asking  for  news,  but  never  find  it,  try  a  six  weeks' 
voyage  to  Rio,  and  on  arrival  pick  up  an  American  news- 
paper a  month  old,  my  word  for  it  they  will  find  it  full  of 
news,  from  the  editorial  leader  down  to  the  present  state  and 
future  prospects  of  white  beans  in  the  market  intelligence. 

Outside  of  the  daily  life  of  the  ship,  its  joys,  its  onward  or 
retarded  progress  o'er  the  billows,  its  stern  facts,  its  amusing 
fancies,  we  have  a  frequent  source  of  news,  in  the  presence  or 
absence  of  fellow  voyagers  who  occasionally  come  along  to 
break  the  everlasting  circle  of  the  horizon;  now  and  then  in 
the  near  or  distant  spoutings  of  the  whale,  unwarily  pointing 
out  his  course  through  the  trackless  sea;  in  the  hungry  shark 
stealthily  hanging  about  our  back  doors,  never  having  learned 
probably,  that  our  proper  back  doors  are  in  front,  and  that 
no  one  is  allowed  to  jump  into  the  cabin  windows;  in  the  roll- 
ing porpoise  or  sea  hog,  who  has  evidently  been  to  sea  longer 
than  the  shark,  as  he  knows  how  to  distinguish  appearances 
from  realities,  and  hides  himself  under  our  bow;  and  if  these 
fail  us,  we  can  fall  back  on  the  weather,  which,  notwithstand- 
ing its  antiquity,  is  always  new,  and  ever  ready  to  come  to 
the  rescue,  by  entering  the  breaches  made  by  faltering  tongues. 

We  certainly  have  a  peculiar  right  to  talk  about  the  weather, 
as  we  observe  it  through  day  and  night,  interrogating  the 
heavy  cumulus  cloud,  or  the  light  corus,  whence  they  come 
or  whither  they  go,  or  what  they  bring;  examining  the  bar- 
ometer and  thermometer;  measuring  the  force  of  the  winds 
and  the  currents,  and  taking  the  temperature  or  sounding  the 
depths  of  the  sea.  Beyond  these  and  some  other  kindred 
topics  of  news,  we  have  nothing  to  draw  upon  but  the  re- 
sources within  ourselves,  and  those  who  have  none  of  their 


27 

own,  are  very  apt  to  prey  upon  those  of  others,  or  upon  them- 
selves. 

There  is  nothing  that  tests  the  reserved,  self-sustaining 
power  of  the  individual  better  than  a  long  voyage  at  sea.  It 
confirms  the  wise  man  in  his  wisdom,  and  the  fool  in  his  folly. 
Its  monotony  will  often  weary,  but  it  need  never  degrade,  or 
even  depress.  Miserable,  indeed,  will  it  make  that  being  who 
ventures  out  without  some  individuality  of  his  own  to  rely  up- 
on, and  to  answer  the  new  demands  of  his  situation.  Out- 
side of  the  narrow  limits  of  the  frail,  tossing  bark  that  holds 
him,  whose  few  means  of  simple  diversion  he  may  soon  ex- 
haust, there  stretches  the  blue  •  firmament  above,  and  the 
boundless  waters  beneath,  with  whose  grandeur  his  soul 
will  expand  or  under  whose  power  it  will  contract.  The 
vastness  of  creation  is  around  him  not  merely  to  be  seen, 
but  to  be  felt.  He  cannot  escape  from  it;  it  will  explore  the 
hidden  places  of  his  breast.  And  happy  is  he,  who  can  look 
out  on  these  infinities  with  a  mind  strengthened  by  the  les- 
sons of  their  wonderful  volumes;  who  can  feel  that,  while 
they  withdraw  him  from  the  dearest  objects  of  his  affection, 
they  introduce  him  more  than  ever  to  himself;  and  still  hap- 
pier if,  amid  their  changing  scenes  and  uncertain  vicissitudes, 
he  can  connect  them  with  the  greater  Infinitly  beyond, 
and  deeply  impressed  with  his  own  insignificance,  can  purify 
his  spirit  by  the  sorrow  of  repentance  in  their  gloom,  or  exalt 
his  faith  and  brighten  his  hopes  in  their  glory. 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 

WEDNESDAY,  January  6,  1858. 

Our  latitude  to-day  is  about  48  degrees.  We  were  off  our 
course  last  night,  and  have  been  more  or  less  for  two  or  three 
days.  We  have  long,  cool  days  and  short  nights.  We  are 
every  day  followed  by  multitudes  of  birds,  and  among  them 


28 

the  albatross  is  first  in  importance.  It  is  a  beautiful  bird, 
bearing  a  good  deal  of  resemblance  to  the  goose,  as  it  is  seen 
at  a  distance  sitting  on  the  ocean,  and  may  have  suggested 
the  song  of  the  wild  goose.  Some  of  them  measure  sixteen 
or  seventeen  feet  across  the  wings.  Their  wings  have  one 
more  joint  than  those  of  most  birds.  Most  of  them  have 
pure  white  breasts  with  brown,  and  sometimes  spotted  backs. 
Their  flight  is  very  graceful,  and  as  they  do  not  flap  their 
wings  much,  they  seem  to  run  along  on  the  waves  to  meet 
sufficient  resistance  to  raise  them  up.  It  is  quite  remarkable 
that  these  sea  birds  become  sick  when  caught  and  placed  on 
the  deck  of  a  ship.  As  this  cannot  be  called  seasickness,  I 
suppose  it  may  be  called  ship  fever.  If  not  seasickness  in 
name  I  presume  it  must  be  in  reality.  Tossing  as  these  birds 
continually  are,  on  the  waves,  I  do  not  know  why  they  should 
not  be  land  sick,  as  other  bipeds  who  pride  themselves  on 
keeping  horizontal  are  very  apt  to  be  seasick.  They  are  sick 
with  too  little  motion,  where  others  are  sick  with  too  much. 
What  a  world!  How  circumstances  do  alter  cases,  and  how 
different  positions  affect  the  conditions  of  different  stom- 
achs! But  we  are  poor  conceited  creatures,  and,  while  we 
make  such  an  ado  about  getting  our  sea  legs,  don't  think  for 
a  moment  that  under  other  relations  we  should  have  the  same 
trouble  in  getting  land  legs.  The  albatross  undoubtedly  has 
his  disgust  on  shore,  as  we  do  ours  at  sea.  How  he  manages 
to  lay  and  hatch  his  egg,  is  a  curious  matter.  If  attended 
with  the  usual  emotions  of  seasickness,  the  discharge  of  that 
delicate  trust  must  certainly  be  performed  under  circum- 
stances of  no  common  hardship  and  peculiar  tribulations! 
Some  of  the  officers  have  been  trying  to  catch  one* of  these 
birds  with  hook  and  line,  but  have  not  succeeded. 

The  delicate  little  stormy  petrel,  familiarly  known  as  Mother 
Carey's  chicken,  has  been  with  us  daily  to  cheer  our  tedious 
voyage.  This  interesting  little  creature  has  a  very  ethereal 
look  as  he  flits  or  almost  runs  over  the  waves.  They  have 
very  much  the  appearance  of  swallows,  and  contrast  strangely 
with  the  rude  waves  o'er  which  they  delight  to  hover.  Sailors 


29 

regard  them  as  ominous,  but  I  do  not  see  of  what,  except 
that  their  presence  indicates  generally  that  they  want  some- 
thing to  eat  and  their  departure  that  they  have  got  it.  If 
they  are  the  forerunners  of  storms,  we  certainly  should  have 
had  a  stormy  passage.  But  the  sailors  ought  to  know  more 
than  I  do  about  it,  and  I  will  not  question  their  authority. 
A  vein  of  superstition  seems  to  be  necessary  to  complete  the 
sailor. 

This  bird  has  been  quite  a  puzzle  to  naturalists,  as  they  are 
only  seen  at  sea,  and  the  natural  question  is,  where  do  they 
hatch?  One  of  the  old  quartermasters  told  me  that  it  was  a 
belief  among  sailors  that  they  laid  their  eggs  under  their 
wings  and  hatched  them  there!  This  is  more  poetical  than 
true,  probably  like  many  other  conclusions  of  sailors.  Noth- 
ing is  more  attractive  at  sea  than  the  sight  of  these  gentle 
wanderers,  whose  restless  flight  o'er  the  sea  seems  to  subdue 
and  soften  in  some  measure  the  effect  of  its  lonely  grandeur, 
as  well  as  recall  our  minds  to  summer  field  and  "skimming 
swallows." 

My  hands  are  so  numb,  that  I  write  with  difficulty  in  this 
chilly  air. 


SATURDAY,  January  9. 

Our  latitude  is  54  degrees.  We  are  now  going  by  steam, 
which  was  applied  to  the  propeller  on  Thursday.  We  were 
off  against  the  Falkland  Isles,  Thursday  night,  but  not  in 
sight  of  them.  This  morning  before  5  o'clock  I  was  called 
by  the  officer  of  the  deck  to  go  up  and  see  the  land.  Of 
course  I  could  not  have  obeyed  an  order  with  more  alacrity, 
and  turning  out  of  my  berth,  I  ascended  to  the  bridge  over 
the  quarter  deck,  and  saw  far  ahead  the  snow  capped-sum- 
mits  of  the  mountains  of  Terra  del  Fuego  glittering  in  the 
sunlight  of  one  of  those  clear  frosty  mornings  that  seem  to 
crystallize  the  very  air.  The  green  hills  around  Rio  seen 
through  the  tremulous  air  of  a  tropical  summer  were  hardly 


30 

more  agreeable  to  the  eyes,  than  this  long  chain  of  rounded 
tops,  white  with  eternal  snow.  A  real  Sierra  Nevada,  and 
this  in  Terra  del  Fuego,  the  Land  of  Fire.  The  long  mass  of 
fleecy  cloud,  tinted  with  the  yellow  sunlight  that  moved  in 
grand  procession  above  their  heads,  and  the  bluish  green  wa- 
ter below,  contrasted  finely  with  the  deep,  glistening  snow. 
The  clouds  had  all  the  softness  of  summer;  on  the  mountain 
tops  there  was  unmistakable  winter:  while  the  air  had  the 
balmy  coolness  of  spring.  The  water  was  very  calm,  and  our 
noble  ship  marked  out  a  track  which  was  visible  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach.  One  of  the  large  charts  which  we  have 
shows  a  very  great  indenture  east  of  Terra  del  Fuego,  and 
north  of  Staten  Island,  formed  by  the  curve  of  the  southern 
point  of  the  continent,  which,  with  the  Falkland,  Islands  to 
the  northeast,  makes  this  part  of  the  ocean  a  good  deal  land- 
locked, and  in  calm  weather  it  is  nearly  as  placid  as  a  large 
bay. 

After  breakfast  I  returned  to  the  upper  deck,  and  found  the 
water  calmer  than  before,  as  quiet  as  a  mountain  lake,  and 
sparkling  as  if  every  ray  of  light  that  fell  upon  it  was  reflected 
from  a  gem.  The  snowy  mountain  tops  were  fast  retreat- 
ing to  the  west,  and  the  dark  rock  lowlands,  which  would 
be  called  mountains  by  themselves,  were  in  full  view.  Im- 
mediately before  us  were  the  Straits  of  Le  Maire,  for  which 
we  were  steering.  About  fifteen  miles  off,  east  of  the  straits 
was  Staten  Land,  a  long  rocky  island,  whose  rough,  ragged, 
angular  mountains  looked  as  if  they  had  sustained  an  ele- 
mental war  through  the  long  line  of  ages.  As  we  approached 
the  land  on  the  Terra  del  Fuego  side,  we  could  see  distinctly 
some  signs  of  vegetation  in  the  low,  scrubby  looking  bushes, 
that  roughened  the  outlines  which  were  so  sharp  in  the  dis- 
tance. Here  and  there  was  a  green  spot  which  appeared 
through  the  glass  to  be  coarse  grass  or  stunted  shrubs,  show- 
ing that  summer  had  shed  her  gentle  influences  even  in  this 
forsaken  region. 

A  species  of  wild  duck,  and  flocks  of  that  strange  compound 
of  bird  and  fish,  the  penguin,  that  fluttered  through  the  water 


31 

with  their  little  wings  or  fins,  astonished  to  see  such  a  mon- 
ster invade  their  wild,  watery  home,  were  the  only  or  chief 
indications  of  animal  life  to  be  seen.  As  we  approached  the 
straits,  the  volcanic  character  of  the  rocks  was  very  percep- 
tible. Their  seams,  rents,  scars  and  fissures  were  clear  to 
the  eye.  The  fires  of  earth  here  spent  their  rage,  and  left 
this  volcanic  ruin  and  rocky  desolation.  About  one  o'clock 
we  passed  through  the  straits,  which  are  about  twelve  miles 
wide,  being  driven  by  a  fresh  north  breeze,  that  came  along 
to  the  aid  of  our  steam  at  the  rate  of  ten  miles  an  hour.  We 
were  now  fairly  out  in  the  great  southern  ocean  whose  winds 
encircle  the  globe.  Cape  Horn  was  about  ninety  miles  from 
the  straits,  which  distance  is  somewhat  reduced  now,  as  I 
write,  but  our  course  is  so  southerly,  that  we  shall  go  far 
away  from  it.  Mere  curiosity  would  prompt  a  desire  to  see 
this  much  dreaded  point,  but  we  have  seen  several  other 
rocky  capes  that  will  answer  quite  as  well.  The  general  ten- 
dency of  public  opinion  in  these  parts  is  to  get  away  from  it 
as  fast  and  as  far  as  possible.  Our  old  geography  school- 
boy ideas  would  perhaps  lead  us  to  think  that  the  great  South 
American  continent  here  came  to  a  sharp  angular  point,  and 
that  there  was  great  danger  of  vessels  being  cut  in  two,  if 
they  came  very  near  it!  But,  like  many  other  points,  the 
difficulty  lies  more  in  disposing  of  the  circumstances  around 
it  than  in  the  point  itself.  In  other  words,  it  is  surrounded 
by  doubts  and  perplexities,  and  given  over  to  wind.  You 
have  probably  seen  some  individuals  in  the  same  predica- 
ment. The  more  some  things  are  reduced  to  a  point,  the 
more  they  spread  themselves;  and  all  over  the  ocean  here, 
from  the  Falkland  Islands  in  the  Atlantic  to  the  fiftieth  de- 
gree of  latitude  in  the  Pacific,  one  is  very  apt  to  hear  and 
breathe  nothing  but  Cape  Horn  gas!  I  would  not  speak  dis- 
respectfully of  it  behind  its  back,  and  therefore  I  deliver  my 
sentiments  right  in  its  face!  I  don't  know  why  it  should  have 
the  credit  of  raising  all  this  wind,  when  it  is  only  one  of  a 
thousand  volcanic  islands  into  which  the  southern  part  of 
Patagonia  is  broken.  It  comes  by  its  "bad  eminence"  from 


32 

being  a  little  farther  south  than  the  main  cluster,  but  there  are 
a  few  islands,  more  removed,  still  south  of  it.  It  was  named, 
if  I  recollect  aright,  after  a  town  in  Holland.  Holland  should 
have  the  honor  of  naming  it,  I  think,  as  it  would  be  a  fine 
place  for  a  windmill. 

After  getting  through  the  straits  there  was  a  change  in  the 
temperature,  from  the  bright,  beautiful  morn  to  this  cold, 
raw  evening,  I  cannot  call  it  night.  Although  about  10 
o'clock,  it  is  nearly  light  enough  to  read  on  the  upper  deck. 
Our  passage  has  been  a  very  favored  one  thus  far,  but  we  have 
all  the  difficult  part  of  the  field  to  go  over  yet.  I  did  not  ex- 
pect to  find  myself  writing  down  here,  and  shall  not  take  up 
the  quill  again  till  we  get  higher  up  into  more  genial  lati- 
tudes. We  may  have  the  fate  of  many  other  vessels,  and  be 
detained  here  several  days,  or  driven  farther  south.  It  is 
considered  necessary  by  most  navigators,  to  go  west  as  far 
as  the  eightieth  degree  of  longitude  in  order  to  take  advan- 
tage of  the  winds  and  avoid  the  danger  of  a  lee  shore.  But 
I  doubt  if  our  enterprising  Yankee  clipper  ships  always  re- 
gard this.  If  they  did,  they  never  would  have  made  the  quick 
passages  that  have  distinguished  them. 

I  sit  writing  here  bundled  up  in  an  overcoat,  and  with  a 
hand  too  cold  to  write  further. 


WEDNESDAY,  January  20. 

Gape  Horn  and  all  its  terrors  are  now  far  behind  us,  and 
it  has  become  mild  enough  to  write  with  comfort.  ~  If  I  were 
to  judge  of  most  cruises  around  this  point  by  ours,  I  should 
doubtless  do  the  cape  great  injustice.  I  was  a  good  deal  dis- 
appointed in  the  reception  it  gave  us,  after  all  our  prepara- 
tion to  meet  its  attentions.  Our  formidable  appearance  may 
have  induced  it  to  give  us  a  wide  berth,  or  perhaps  it  had 
spent  all  its  wind  on  some  one  else.  Our  passage  is  called  by 
the  wise  ones  a  very  remarkable  one.  For  a  week  after  I 


COMMODORE  JOHN  C.  LONG 


33 

last  wrote  the  weather  was  cold  and  disagreeable.  We  had 
hail  and  rain  nearly  every  day,  and  although  the  winds  were 
not  always  propitious,  they  were  never  violent.  It  was  im- 
possible to  keep  comfortable  except  by  going  to  bed,  and  the 
long  daylight  seemed  to  disagree  with  that.  Saturday  night, 
January  16,  when  we  were  near  latitude  50  degrees  and  longi- 
tude 83  degrees,  we  had  what  I  thought  was  worthy  of  being 
called  a  gale,  but  it  hardly  had  that  reputation  in  the  ship. 
How  much  it  takes  to  make  a  gale  I  have  not  yet  ascertained. 
I  am  inclined  to  think,  however,  that  with  sailors  they  are 
somewhat  affected  by  time,  and  blow  a  little  harder  in  the 
past  than  they  get  credit  for  in  the  present.  Whether  this 
was  a  gale  or  not,  the  scenery  outside  the  ship  was  quite 
mountainous,  and  our  large  proportions  must  have  been  con- 
siderably diminished  to  the  eye  as  we  were  tossed  about  like 
a  chip  on  the  sea.  We  were  under  steam,  and  as  we  could 
not  well  set  our  mainsail  on  account  of  the  smoke  stack,  we 
were  rolled  about  in  all  directions.  We  had  got  so  far  from 
the  cape  that  we  did  not  use  as  much  care  as  was  necessary 
in  our  mess  room  below,  and  the  rolling  of  the  ship  very  soon 
made  known  to  us  what  was  not  securely  fastened.  Before 
I  arose  from  my  berth,  or  rather  rolled  out  of  it,  I  heard  such 
a  tumbling  of  chairs  and  tables,  and  such  a  smashing  of 
crockery  that  I  expected  to  find  nothing  whole  when  I  went 
down  to  breakfast. 

On  entering  the  ward  room  I  was  told  that  the  mess  table 
had  been  lifted  by  the  spirits  without,  and  one  end  of  it  car- 
ried with  divers  loud  raps  into  the  room  of  the  second  lieu- 
tenant. The  surgeon,  on  seeing  the  said  lieutenant  crawling 
out  over  this  "wreck  of  matter"  with  a  good  deal  of  gravity, 
peeped  out  of  his  state-room  and  inquired  if  the  table  was 
hurt!  After  order  was  in  some  measure  restored,  an  attempt 
was  made  to  eat  breakfast,  but  it  was  nearly  fruitless.  The 
table  was  made  fast,  sand  bags  stretched  across  it,  and  chairs 
lashed,  but  our  breakfast  flew  away  in  all  directions.  You 
would  have  been  amused  if  you  could  have  looked  in  upon 
us  and  witnessed  our  attempts  to  balance  ourselves  on  our 


34 

chairs  or  feet,  and  at  the  same  time  to  keep  our  coffee  cups 
horizontal.  Some  of  us  found  our  level  on  the  floor,  and  the 
table  cloth  drank  up  no  small  portion  of  our  coffee;  while 
the  bread  and  vegetables  amused  themselves  by  chasing  each 
other  off  the  table.  Notwithstanding  a  good  deal  of  our 
breakfast  had  taken  wings,  it  seemed  to  be  impossible  to  re- 
sist the  impulse  to  laughter.  Our  worthy  chaplain  looked 
very  much  as  if  he  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  instability 
of  all  earthly  possessions  in  general  and  of  the  breakfast  be- 
fore him  in  particular.  It  was  Sunday,  and  in  the  absence 
of  the  usual  services,  we  had  a  very  good  practical  sermon 
all  around  us  on  the  vanity  of  human  wishes,  and  the  un- 
certainty of  always  getting  a  breakfast  when  we  expect  it. 
The  heavy  sea  nauseated  me  somewhat,  but  the  laughable 
incidents  below  seemed  to  have  a  buoyant  effect.  The  break- 
ing of  the  crockery,  however,  had  nothing  very  laughable 
about  it,  as  we  shall  probably  ascertain  when  the  next  mess 
bill  is  to  be  paid.  The  ship  rolled  so  much  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  walk  the  decks  without  the  aid  of  a  rope.  I  went 
on  the  spar  deck  in  the  afternoon  and  saw  the  grandest  sea 
that  I  ever  witnessed.  It  was  sublimity,  however,  a  little 
too  near.  We  are  not  exactly  in  a  condition  to  admire  the 
power,  where  we  so  plainly  feel  its  supremacy. 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 

SATURDAY,  January  23,  1858. 

The  weather  has  been  delightfully  mild  the  past  few  days, 
and  we  are  rapidly  approaching  the  bay  of  Concepcion,  where 
we  are  to  put  in  to  refit  the  ship.  This  morning  we  are  about 
one  hundred  and  eighty  miles  from  Talcahuano,  and  shall 
anchor  there  to-morrow  without  much  doubt.  Talcahuano 
is  the  seaport  of  Concepcion,  which  is  the  chief  town  of  one 
of  the  southern  districts  of  Chili  of  that  name.  Concepcion 


35 

is  a  little  in  the  interior,  about  nine  or  ten  miles  from  Talca- 
huano.  Old  Concepcion  was  situated  on  the  bay  not  far 
from  Talcahuano,  and  entirely  destroyed  by  the  last  great 
earthquake  in  Chili,  of  1836.  Talcahuano  is  a  small  place 
that  derives  its  importance  principally  from  being  one  of  the 
few  places  in  the  Pacific  where  our  American  whale  ships  re- 
fit. Not  far  to  the  south  of  it  is  the  country  of  the  celebrated 
Araucanian  Indians,  whom  the  Spaniards  never  could  con- 
quer. 


TALCAHUANO,  CHILI, 
WEDNESDAY,  January  27. 

Last  Sunday  morning  we  made  the  first  land  on  the  Pacific 
coast,  and  about  two  o'clock  entered  this  large  bay  of  Con- 
cepcion, dropping  our  anchor  two  or  three  hours  after,  some 
two  miles  from  this  little,  low,  one-story  town  of  Talcahuano. 
All  that  is  attractive  here  is  the  bay,  which  is  a  fine  sheet  of 
water,  completely  surrounded  by  hills  of  moderate  elevation; 
and,  I  ought  to  add,  the  climate.  This  is  the  Chilian  sum- 
mer, and  everything  is  dried  up.  Hardly  a  green  spot  is 
visible  throughout  the  whole  amphitheatre  of  hills  that  sur- 
round the  bay.  The  year  is  pretty  equally  divided  here  into 
summer  and  winter,  the  dry  and  wet  seasons.  The  temper- 
ature is  very  pleasant.  The  heat  of  the  day,  which  has  not 
been  excessive  thus  far,  is  tempered  by  the  cool  southerly 
winds,  which  blow  almost  constantly  at  this  season.  The 
nights  are  damp  and  cool.  This  little  town  is  rendered  quite 
agreeable  by  the  few  Americans  who  reside  and  do  business 
here,  as  well  as  by  the  captains  of  the  American  whale  ships. 
I  would  almost  beg  to  be  excused  from  a  description  of  the 
place,  fearing  that  I  might  do  it  injustice.  If  it  is  a  repre- 
sentative of  other  Spanish  towns  of  South  America,  and  I  am 
told  it  is,  I  think  that  I  shall  not  devote  much  ink  and  paper 


36 

to  them.  The  natives  appear  to  be  a  polite,  harmless  people, 
who  have  not  quite  caught  up  with  the  "times,"  according 
to  the  North  American  clock,  but  manifest  the  best  disposi- 
tion, if  the  "times"  will  only  not  be  in  such  a  hurry.  Rail- 
roads, telegraphs  and  steamboats  are  exceedingly  scarce; 
and  the  wooden  trucks,  which  answer  for  wheels  on  their 
boyish  looking  ox-carts,  only  supply  one  of  the  uses  of  the 
locomotive,  in  the  hideous  noise  which  their  unlubricated 
axles  continually  send  out.  The  best  of  the  private  resi- 
dences here  have  no  attractiveness  about  them.  The  earth- 
quakes compel  the  people  to  be  satisfied  with  one  story,  and 
even  that  they  do  not  care  to  adorn.  Whatever  of  flower 
and  shrub  there  may  be  is  enclosed  by  the  walls  of  the  houses. 
The  streets  are  without  trees,  to  temper  the  dazzling  sunlight 
reflected  from  the  whitewashed  walls.  The  lodgings  of  the 
poor  are  made  of  sticks  interlaced,  plastered  with  mud,  and 
with  thatched  roofs. 

Why  should  I  say  poor,  for  I  observed  that  the  more  lowly 
the  hovel  is,  the  more  it  is  blessed  with  children.  The  na- 
tives are  nearly  all  strongly  marked  with  the  Indian  features. 
Most  of  them  have  hardly  Spanish  blood  enough  to  swear  by. 
There  are  a  few  families  of  Spanish  extraction  here,  and  they 
are  certainly,  so  far  as  one  can  judge  who  has  but  a  slight 
knowledge  of  their  language,  quite  intelligent,  and  very  agree- 
able people.  We  are  not  in  the  best  season  for  fruit.  The 
strawberries,  which  are  very  large,  are  gone,  and  the  grapes 
not  yet  come.  There  are  plums  here  which  are  not  so  good 
as  our  best,  and  pears  that  are  only  ordinary.  The  climate 
is  an  admirable  one  for  pears  and  apples,  but  no  attention 
is  paid  to  introducing  the  best  varieties.  What  they  have 
are  shaken  from  the  trees  and  brought  to  market  in  a  bruised 
state.  All  the  fruits  of  the  temperate  zone,  and  many  of  the 
tropical,  would  flourish  under  this  favorable  clime,  but  they 
find  no  encouragement  from  the  indolent  people.  The  earth- 
quakes seem  to  have  shaken  all  energy  out  of  them,  if  they 
ever  had  any.  The  fleas  are  the  only  things  that  display  any 
activity  about  them! 


37 

FRIDAY,  February  5. 

We  are  still  in  Concepcion  bay  off  Talcahuano;  but,  having 
finished  cleaning  and  painting  the  ship,  we  have  cast  anchor 
a  little  nearer  town.  Yesterday,  we  were  visited  by  a  large 
company  of  people  from  Concepcion  and  Talcahuano,  who 
have  been  impatient  to  see  the  ship.  More  than  one-half  of 
them  .were  ladies,  and  some  of  them  quite  attractive.  The 
Chilian  ladies  are  certainly  far  ahead  of  the  Brazilian  in 
beauty.  Of  course  there  was  a  hop,  which  consumed  the 
greater  part  of  the  day.  Our  fair  visitors  seemed  to  enjoy 
the  occasion  much  and  took  a  very  early  and  reluctant  de- 
parture. Last  week  I  went  with  three  of  my  messmates  to 
Concepcion,  in  a  Concord  coach,  which,  while  it  carried  us 
to  Concepcion,  carried  me  back  over  a  much  more  interesting 
road,  that  conducted  me  through  the  pleasant  memories  of 
the  past.  There  was  nothing  very  noteworthy  to  be  seen  on 
our  route.  The  road,  which  the  selectmen  of  these  parts  have 
probably  not  inspected  since  it  was  laid  out  (if  it  ever  was 
laid  out)  and  which  would  soon  ruin  anything  but  a  Concord 
coach,  passes  over  an  alluvial  district,  which,  I  was  informed, 
was  covered  with  water  after  the  last  great  earthquake  of 
1836.  Hardly  a  green  spot  was  visible,  and  only  an  occa- 
sional tree.  I  saw  a  few  of  the  wild  flowers  that  we  see  in 
New  England  in  the  latter  part  of  summer,  among  others, 
the  wild  aster.  The  principal  objects  of  interest  were  scat- 
tered along  the  road,  the  mud  cottages  full  of  a  dense  popu- 
lation of  Indian  looking  natives,  and  I  dare  say  a  complete 
assortment  of  fleas;  dark  looking  Chilanos  dashing  by  on  gal- 
loping horses  (they  seem  to  have  no  trotting  ones);  little, 
low  carts,  which,  like  the  houses,  seem  to  be  of  the  one-story 
kind,  but  not  at  all  deficient  in  the  quality  of  noise,  all  of 
which,  together  with  some  costume  peculiarities,  certainly 
presented  some  novelty.  Of  Concepcion  itself,  there  is  but 
little  to  be  said.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  public  build- 
ings, it  seemed  to  be  only  a  little  larger  edition  of  Talcahuano. 

It  being  summer,  many  of  the  more  favored  class  were  in 
the  country,  we  were  told.  Had  we  taken  letters  and  been 


38 

familiar  with  the  language  of  the  country,  we  could  have 
doubtless  been  better  pleased,  but  a  more  monotonous,  un- 
interesting place,  so  far  as  appearance  goes,  I  never  wish  to 
see.  Almost  the  only  thing  that  looks  like  vegetation  is  in 
what  is  called  the  Alameda,  which  consists  of  two  walks 
shaded  by  Lombardy  poplars.  Can  you  conceive  of  a  Lom- 
bardy  poplar  being  attractive  anywhere?  I  thought  it  was 
impossible  till  I  went  to  Concepcion.  Such  is  the  dearth  of 
greenness  there,  that  this  tree  really  has  a  contrasted  beauty. 
If  comparisons  are  generally  odious,  contrasts  are  certainly, 
sometimes,  delightful.  We  walked  through  the  Alameda  sev- 
eral times  without  meeting  anyone  but  a  Catholic  priest  in 
black  gown  and  shovel  hat,  whose  appearance  rather  added 
to  the  desolate  silence  that  reigned  around.  We  passed  the 
night  at  one  of  the  hotels,  and  being  strangers,  furnished  a 
fresh  bite  for  the  fleas.  They  certainly  improved  their  op- 
portunity, and  made  altogether  the  strongest  impressions  that 
we  the  next  morning  carried  away  from  Concepcion. 


VALPARAISO,  SATURDAY  EVE.,  February. 

Last  Tuesday  morning  we  left  the  bay  of  Concepcion  with 
a  fair  south  wind  and  anchored  before  this  place  Wednesday 
afternoon.  I  hoped  to  have  a  view  of  the  Andes  as  we  ap- 
proached the  land,  but  the  air  was  not  clear.  Outside  of  the 
harbor  we  returned  the  salute  of  a  Chilian  brig-of-war;  and 
before  we  reached  the  bay  we  were  saluted  by  the  English, 
French  and  Chilian  men-of-war  at  anchor  in  the  harbor  as 
soon  as  they  made  out  our  colors,  so  that  we  had  to  postpone 
an  answer  to  some  of  them  till  we  had  moored  our  ship, 
which  required  a  good  deal  of  care,  from  the  great  depth  of 
water,  the  number  of  vessels  around  us,  and  limited  extent 
of  the  harbor.  Valparaiso  is  not  fortunate  in  its  harbor.  It 
is  not  well  land-locked  and  very  much  exposed  to  the  north 
winds,  which  in  the  winter  sometimes  blow  with  great  se- 
verity. 

As  our  arrival  had  been  expected  for  several  days  and  anx- 


39 

iously  awaited,  the  nearest  shore  was  crowded  with  specta- 
tors to  see  the  largest  vessel  that  had  ever  visited 'the  place. 
The  city  presents  a  very  good  appearance  from  the  bay,  as- 
cending, as  it  does,  from  the  water's  edge  up  the  surrounding 
hills.  There  is  an  almost  entire  absence  of  vegetation,  how- 
ever, to  relieve  the  eyes  and  soften  the  scenery.  The  deep 
red  soil  is  enough  to  give  one  the  impression  that  it  is  sun- 
burnt clay.  A  hasty  visit  on  shore  is  all  that  I  have  had  time 
to  make,  but  it  was  an  agreeable  one.  The  style  of  architec- 
ture resembles  that  of  Rio,  but  the  streets  are  much  wider 
and  cleaner.  The  city  has  improyed  very  much  the  last  ten 
years,  and  is  still  progressing.  Here,  as  elsewhere  in  South 
America,  English  and  American  energy  are  the  chief  motive 
powers.  Of  three  portraits  in  the  reading  room  of  the  Ex- 
change, one  is  that  of  a  native  of  Newburyport,  Mass.,  Wil- 
liam Wheelwright,  a  son  of  old  Eben.  Wheelwright,  I  think. 
Mr.  Wheelwright  was  the  proprietor  of  the  line  of  steamers 
to  Panama  from  this  place,  of  a  railroad  farther  north,  from 
one  of  the  seaports  to  the  principal  mining  district,  and  of 
one  from  this  city  to  Santiago,  only  partially  constructed. 

I  am  cut  short  off  here  by  some  necessary  demands  on  my 
time.  If  I  can  have  an  opportunity  to  become  more  ac- 
quainted with  this  place,  I  will  extend  this  glimpse  a  little  in 
my  next. 


U.  S.  STEAM  FRIGATE  MEKEIMAC,  AT  SEA, 

April  4,  1858. 

BURIAL  MOUNDS  IN   PERU. 

These  old  burial  mounds  or  "huacas,"  as  they  are  called  in 
Peruvian,  are  very  large  and  numerous.  From  those  that  re- 
main in  the  best  state  of  preservation,  they  appear  to  have 
been  built  up  in  terraces,  and  one  that  we  saw  must  be  from 
four  to  five  hundred  feet  long  by  two  hundred  broad.  They 
are  constructed  of  loose  clay  with  adobe  brick,  and  in  some 


40 

cases  terraced  with  large  square  blocks  of  clay,  moulded  with 
cobble  stones.  Their  height  is  about  two  hundred  feet.  Of 
course  they  could  never  have  been  so  well  preserved  in  any 
but  a  rainless  country,  like  Peru.  Around  the  burial  mounds 
there  is  a  large  area  more  or  less  covered  with  the  remains  of 
walls  built  of  the  same  moulded  square  blocks  of  clay  and 
stones,  and  indicating  what  seemed  to  be  streets,  although, 
from  their  unbroken  surface  in  some  instances,  I  was  at  a 
loss  to  know  how  they  could  have  been  thoroughfares  in  a 
large  community.  It  seemed  much  more  probable  that  they 
were  roads  leading  to  and  from  the  mounds.  We  wanted  very 
much  the  services  of  a  trustworthy  antiquarian,  but  I  could 
not  hear  of  such  a  remnant  of  the  past,  and  I  doubt  if  Peru 
furnishes  such  a  class  of  living  fossils,  notwithstanding  its 
climate  is  so  admirably  adapted  to  drying  up.  There  was 
nothing  to  speak  to  us  but  the  towering  graves  themselves, 
where  thousands  upon  thousands  literally  are  buried,  where 
Indian  clay  for  unknown  ages  found  its  kindred  earth;  no 
monumental  stone  or  rude  inscription  to  speak  to  us  of  these 
dead  "children  of  the  Sun,"  lying  beneath  us  in  silence  and 
dusty  oblivion,  while  the  great  luminary,  to  which  the  ador- 
ing eyes  of  so  many  generations  of  them  had  been  turned, 
still  careered  along  the  heavens  in  glory  and  power,  and  as 
we  felt  the  full  force  of  his  noontide  beam,  I  could  but  think 
that  that  beneficent  goodness  of  his  rays,  which  the  living  so 
long  reverenced,  was  still  continued  with  preserving  and  al- 
most embalming  care  over  the  clayey  sepulchres  of  his  now 
silent  worshippers. 

The  road  to  the  mounds  took  us  through  only  one  green 
spot,  which  was  covered  with  bushes  and  a  coarse  gfass.  Of 
course  there  was  no  lack  of  dust.  In  some  places  it  was  near- 
ly over  our  shoes.  Much  of  our  way  was  through  the  paths 
marked  out  by  the  walls,  before  alluded  to,  and  with  their 
bare  surfaces  on  both  sides,  as  well  as  the  light  dust  beneath 
us,  to  reflect  the  heat,  we  had  the  full  effect  of  the  direct  and 
reflected  rays  of  the  unclouded  sun.  After  reaching  the 
ground  our  guide  was  of  no  further  use  to  us.  He  knew  no 


41 

more  of  the  mounds  than  the  dead  themselves.  We  had 
heard  in  Callao  that  some  of  the  huacas  were  being  exca- 
vated, but  after  wandering  through  them  and  over  them  for 
an  hour  or  two,  we  were  unable  to  find  the  excavators,  so  we 
ascended  one  which  we  saw  in  the  distance,  where  a  mud  hut 
was  visible,  to  procure  a  digger,  if  possible.  Arriving  at  the 
summit,  we  found  two  or  three  of  the  hybrid  natives  with 
their  mules,  and  obtained  about  as  much  information  from 
them,  regarding  the  graves  on  which  they  were  living  with 
all  possible  unconcern,  as  we  previously  had  from  our  negro 
guide.  They  were  ready,  however,  to  dig  for  us,  and  told  us 
that  we  might  as  well  dig  there  as  anywhere,  which  indicated 
that  they  were  about  as  lazy  as  ignorant.  After  one  of  them 
dug  in  the  intensely  heated  and  compact  clay  for  some  time, 
a  talkative,  barefooted  negro  came  up,  and  seemed  by  his 
manner  and  language  to  be  very  wise  in  regard  to  what  we 
wanted  to  ascertain.  We  soon  discovered,  however,  that  he 
was  a  poor  crazy  black;  but,  as  he  seemed  willing,  we  set  him 
to  digging,  which  he  did  with  more  zeal  than  discretion,  as  he 
stirred  up  the  dry  bones  with  his  shovel.  His  garrulity  re- 
minded us  of  the  grave  digger  in  Hamlet,  without  his  wis- 
dom. We  found  a  few  skulls  and  bones  near  the  surface,  to- 
gether with  several  articles  of  domestic  use  made  of  clay. 
The  appearance  of  the  skulls  led  us  to  doubt  their  genuine- 
ness as  Peruvian,  and  the  earthen  vessels,  which  were  of  very 
common  workmanship,  were  more  or  less  broken  by  the  jab- 
bering negro  in  digging.  Our  desire  was  to  procure  some  of 
these,  if  we  could  find  any  worth  having,  bearing  the  genuine 
stamp  of  antiquity.  Those  remains  which  we  dug  out  were 
undoubtedly  very  old,  but  there  were  traces  that  reminded 
us  of  the  conquest  of  Peru  as  it  is,  rather  than  Peru  as  it  was. 
The  bones  were  all  well  preserved  in  the  dry  earth,  and  in 
some  instances  the  skin  with  the  hair  was  still  loosely  adher- 
ing to  the  skulls.  A  coarse  cotton  or  linen  cloth  in  a  decayed 
state  was  found  around  some  of  the  bones.  The  bodies  seem 
to  have  been  deposited  very  near  together,  with  nothing  but 
the  coarse  wrapper  and  a  little  earth  to  keep  them  distinct. 


42 

As  our  researches  did  not  seem  likely  to  develop  anything  of 
special  interest,  we  gave  the  Peruvian,  who  appeared  to  be 
the  proprietor  of  the  hut,  a  compensation  for  his  services, 
leaving  him  to  pay  the  diggers,  and  departed  with  our  boys, 
who  came  with  us  from  the  ship  to  carry  the  water  and  pro- 
visions, and  lazy  guide,  who  probably  never  dreamed  of  such 
a  day's  work  before.  We  still  had  half  of  the  day  before  us, 
and  spent  two  or  three  hours  in  walking  over  several  others 
of  these  immense  mounds,  and  hired  another  man  and  boy 
to  make  some  further  researches  with  the  shovel,  but  we  could 
find  nothing  worth  bringing  away.  It  was  evident  that  the 
tops  of  most  of  these  artificial  hills  had  been  dug  over  more 
or  less,  and  that  the  better  way  to  examine  internally,  would 
be  to  dig  into  their  sides,  but  we  had  no  time  for  this,  and 
came  away  without  any  of  their  relics,  but  abundantly  satis- 
fied in  having  seen  these  vast  gathering  places  of  the  dead, 
the  mountain  cemeteries  of  Peru. 

We  estimated  that  we  walked  during  the  day  quite  twenty 
miles,  and  as  we  were  exposed  to  the  hot  sun  and  were 
obliged  almost  to  wade  in  the  dust  through  a  part  of  the  route, 
you  can  imagine  that  we  gladly  planted  our  feet  again  on  the 
quarter  deck  of  the  Merrimac  at  half-past  ten  o'clock.  Sev- 
eral of  the  officers  came  up  to  receive  us,  expecting  to  see  us 
bearing  a  dead  Inca  along  on  our  shoulders.  We  thought  we 
were  fortunate  enough  in  bringing  ourselves  back.  We  had 
been  advised  to  take  revolvers  along  with  us,  which  we  did, 
but  had  no  occasion  to  use  them;  and  fortunate  it  was  that 
we  had  not,  as  we  found  on  trial  that  most  of  them  would 
not  discharge  till  the  caps  were  better  fitted. 

A  few  years  since  a  party  of  naval  officers,  who -made  an 
excursion  into  the  country,  were  robbed  of  everything,  and 
came  back  to  Callao  in  their  shirts!  It  was  either  very  con- 
siderate in  the  robbers  to  let  the  poor  fellows  keep  their 
shirts,  or  else  they  knew  nothing  about  such  a  garment,  and 
consequently  it  had  no  appreciable  value  with  them.  I  in- 
cline to  think  the  latter  was  the  fact,  judging  from  appear- 
ances here.  If  they  do  not  appreciate  shirts,  they  appreciate 


43 

washing  them  for  those  who  are  in  the  habit  of  wearing  them, 
as  they  charge  three  dollars  a  dozen!  It  is  keeping  clean  that 
is  appreciated  here,  not  cleanliness. 

There  are  many  other  burial  mounds  in  Peru.  Those  at  a 
place  called  Truxillo  (Truheel-yo)  further  up  the  coast  are 
said  to  be  among  the  most  important.  Valuable  treasure,  it 
is  said,  has  been  taken  from  them.  But  the  place  of  chief 
interest  is  Cuzco,  some  four  or  five  hundred  miles  southeast 
of  Lima,  where  the  Incas  resided,  and  where  there  are  still 
some  remains  of  the  old  "Temple  of  the  Sun."  There  is  no 
such  thing  as  travelling  in  Peru,  except  over  mule  paths,  and 
there  is  but  little  intercourse  between  the  different  places,  ex- 
cept what  is  made  necessary  by  traffic  in  the  means  of  living. 
I  hoped  to  find  someone  in  Lima  who  had  visited  the  old 
city  of  Cuzco,  but  my  stay  there  was  so  short,  that  I  had  no 
time  to  devote  to  other  places.  The  old  ruins  at  Cuzco  con- 
sist principally  of  massive  stones,  I  believe,  which  indicate  a 
knowledge  of  the  mechanical  powers,  which  their  descendants 
certainly  do  not  possess.  It  is  quite  as  much  as  the  moderns 
can  do,  to  move  themselves.  Earthquakes,  fleas  and  jack- 
asses seem  to  be  the  great  moving  spirits  of  the  age  in  these 
parts.  There  is  nothing  like  a  due  combination  of  the  sub- 
lime and  ridiculous  to  produce  an  effect,  and  these  controlling 
powers  in  Peru  have  marked  the  country  all  over  with  their 
tracks. 


U.  S.  STEAM  FRIGATE  MERBIMAC,  AT  SEA, 

April  7th,  1858. 

LIMA  —  PIZARRO'S   BRIDGE. 

We  still  go  along  slowly  with  a  light  breeze  that  blows  di- 
rectly from  behind,  which  makes  the  ship  feel  the  rolling 
swells.  The  weather  is  delightful,  and  the  air  much  drier 


44 

than  at  Callao,  where,  notwithstanding  it  never  rains,  there 
seems  to  be  perpetual  moisture.  The  climate  seems  to  be 
one  of  contradictions.  In  the  winter  nature  deals  out  her 
moisture  in  the  shape  of  dense  and  drizzling  fogs.  These 
commenced  while  we  were  there,  and  prevailed  nearly  every 
day  in  the  morning  or  afternoon.  It  is  rather  hard  for  a 
North  American  to  conceive  of  an  inhabited  country  where 
it  never  rains,  and  where  umbrellas  are  never  lost!  The  ship 
is  still  quite  damp  from  the  effects  of  the  moist  air  of  Callao. 
Our  clothes,  boots  and  shoes  are  covered  with  mould,  which 
the  dry  air  of  Paytas,  a  small  place  in  North  Peru,  that  we 
are  now  approaching,  will  counteract,  I  trust,  as  well  as  im- 
prove the  health  of  the  ship,  which  suffered  considerably  at 
Callao,  where  we  buried  one  of  our  men. 

The  first  week  that  we  lay  at  Callao,  I  did  not  visit  Lima, 
thinking  it  better  to  defer  it  until  sometime  in  "passion  week," 
so  that  I  could  see  the  churches  favorably,  besides  which  there 
is  but  little  in  the  way  of  "sights."  I  regretted  afterwards 
that  I  did  not  go  earlier,  to  make  a  few  hasty  observations, 
and  then,  before  going  away  take  sufficient  time  to  enlarge 
them.  I  was  there  a  day  and  two  nights,  going  up  Wednesday 
evening  before  Holy  Thursday,  and  returning  on  the  morn- 
ing of  Good  Friday.  This  I  found  quite  long  enough,  partic- 
ularly as  I  felt  indisposed  through  heat,  sleepless  nights  at 
the  hotel,  or  other  causes;  and,  after  visiting  the  prominent 
churches,  and  one  or  two  other  places  of  interest,  I  felt  as 
if  Lima  had  done  me,  whether  I  had  "done"  Lima  or  not. 
I  can  give  you,  therefore,  but  a  most  meagre  sketch  of  the 
old  royal  city  of  Lima,  or  "city  of  the  kings,"  as  it  was  for- 
merly called,  before  the  revolution,  and  the  "city  of  the  free," 
after  it.  Names  are  very  pretty  things  sometimes,  but  Lima, 
as  well  as  the  rest  of  unhappy  Peru,  knew  quite  as  much  about 
substantial  freedom,  under  the  rule  of  the  viceroys  of  Spain, 
as  now,  under  a  nominally  Republican  form  of  government. 
The  country  has  been  in  what  is  called  a  revolutionary  state 
so  often  that  settled  peace  seems  to  be  the  exception  and  not 
the  rule.  The  contending  forces  at  present  are  led  by  Cas- 


45 

tilla  (Casteelya),  the  President,  who  drove  his  predecessor 
from  the  chair  of  state,  and  Vivanco,  the  leader  of  the  revo- 
lutionary forces.  The  latter  has  within  a  few  days  been  de- 
feated at  Arequipa.  It  would  hardly  be  worth  the  ink  and 
paper  to  give  the  details  of  these  selfish  quarrels,  which  have 
so  long  cursed  this  wretched  country.  The  poor,  ignorant, 
common  people  are  impressed  into  the  service  of  some  dis- 
appointed man,  some  general  or  governor,  perhaps,  from  the 
numerous  and  ruinous  army  of  officials,  and  made  to  fight 
for  somebody,  they  know  not  and  care  not  whom,  who  wishes 
to  reward  himself  first  and  then  his  friends.  Such  are  what 
are  called  the  revolutions  of  Peru;  mere  robberies,  or  in  other 
words,  a  fight  for  the  Guano  Islands,  the  great  source  of  rev- 
enue of  the  country. 

The  public  money,  instead  of  being  legitimately  spent  for 
useful,  national  purposes,  is  stolen  from  the  treasury  by  the 
higher  officers,  or  exhausted  by  a  worthless  army  of  vaga- 
bonds. Such  things  as  a  constitution  and  laws  hardly  have 
an  existence,  so  far  as  I  could  ascertain,  except  such  ones  as 
a  successful  President  may  dictate.  So  much  for  the  govern- 
ment of  Peru.  She  has  about  as  much  politics,  so  far  as  I 
could  hear,  as  a  highwayman.  It  is  take  on  one  side  and 
give  on  the  other,  while  the  priests  look  on  to  see  that  it  is 
all  done  in  "decency  and  in  order."  I  do  not  much  wonder 
that  Providence  withholds  rain  from  such  a  country. 

There  is  but  little  in  Lima  to  attract  a  stranger,  except 
what  is  associated  with  the  old  Spaniards.  The  city  is  situ- 
ated on  both  sides  of  the  river  Rimac,  which  is  quite  a  moun- 
tain torrent  of  muddy  snow-water  when  swollen,  but  ordin- 
arily quite  an  insignificant  stream.  It  runs  through  an  am- 
phitheatre of  hills  that  surrounds  the  city  to  some  extent, 
but  the  mountains  were  so  enveloped  hi  fog  that  I  could 
hardly  see  their  exact  bearing.  The  city  was  founded  by 
Pizarro,  some  three  hundred  and  twenty  years  ago,  and  he 
has  left  behind  him  a  few  monuments  of  his  energy  and  sa- 
gacity which,  perhaps,  with  some,  would  help  to  redeem  his 
fame,  but  deeds  of  cruelty  and  treachery,  like  those  which 


46 

history  records  against  him,  can  hardly  be  atoned  for  by 
earth-erected  monuments.     The  bridge  that  spans  the  Rimac 
is  perhaps  the  most  enduring,  if  not  the  most  memorable  of 
these.     It  has  but  little  of  the  elaborate  finish  of  architec- 
ture to  attract  the  eye.     Its  chief  glory  is  its  six  strong  arch- 
es, with  the  solid  masonry  around  them,  and  stone  parapets 
above,  over  which  you  look  down  into  the  river,  divided  into 
three  or  four  muddy  mountain  streams.     As  I  lingered  on 
the  bridge,  leaning  on  the  parapet  of  stone,  made  smooth  by 
the  wear  of  years,  it  was  interesting  to  watch  the  numerous 
passers,  and  the  sauntering  idlers.     It  was  Holy  Thursday 
morning  (in  the  calendar,  at  least,  if  not  in  Lima),  and  there 
were  the  early  devotees,  in  black  gowns  and  with  the  black 
manto  thrown  over  the  head;  the  swarthy,  broad  featured  In- 
dians going  to  and  from  market,  with  summer  hats  on,  the 
usual  bonnet  of  the  women;   the  numerous  half  and  quarter 
breeds,  reconciling  in  harmonious  blendings  Spanish,  Indian 
and  African  differences  without  any  sort  of  trouble,  perfect 
diplomatists  in  their  way;   now  and  then  a  negro  riding  on 
the  haunches  of  a  jackass,  a  combination  of  long  ears  and 
long  heels  not  often  met  with,  but  a  bridge  is  very  good  com- 
mon ground  for  extremes  to  meet;  over  on  the  islands  in  the 
river,  as  well  as  in  the  air  overhead,  were  flocks  of  innumer- 
able buzzards,  the  street  inspectors  and  scavengers  of  our 
American  tropical  towns,  self-elected  and  never  turned  out  of 
office;  so  much  for  being  fond  of  garbage!    But  standing  on 
these  stones  of  more  than  two  centuries,  it  was  impossible 
that  the  fleeting  scenes  of  the  present  should  wholly  repress 
the  memories  of  the  past,  above  all  the  recollection  that  the 
bridge  had  itself  so  long  withstood  the  earthquake's  shock, 
which  had  overthrown  nearly  everything  around  it,  reminding 
one  forcibly  of  what  Spain  was  in  her  palmy  days,  in  the  midst 
of  so  much  that  is  significant  of  what  it  now  is;  and  then  the 
daring  adventure  of  the  perfidious  Pizarro  and  his  handful 
of  followers,  bearing  the  sword  in  one  hand  and  the  cross  in 
the  other,  the  one  to  do  violence,  the  other  to  sanctify  it; 
the  interview  at  the  Spanish  camp  with  the  unfortunate 


47 

Atahualpa;  the  insolent  demand  of  surrender  of  the  Romish 
priest,  in  the  name  of  the  Pope  and  by  the  authority  of  the 
breviary;  the  natural  and  expressive  answer  of  the  simple- 
hearted  Inca,  who  threw  the  breviary,  that  could  "tell  noth- 
ing" to  his  ears,  to  the  ground;  the  Spanish  cry  "to  arms;" 
the  imprisonment  of  Atahualpa  and  massacre  of  his  helpless 
followers;  the  quarrels  over  the  plundered  wealth;  the  In- 
ca's  offer  for  his  ransom,  that  was  accepted,  and  then  the 
Inca  strangled;  the  civil  broils  of  the  Spaniards,  and  the 
righteous  retribution  of  Heaven,  in  the  assassination  of  Pi- 
zarro;  the  unholy  farce  that  opened  the  chapter,  the  solemn 
tragedy  that  closed  it! 

As  I  lingered  on  this  interesting  bridge,  as  a  connecting 
span  between  the  past  and  present,  a  well  remembered  line 
In  a  book  of  history  of  my  schoolboy  days  came  back  vividly 
to  my  mind, 

"Pizarro,  too,  in  rich  Peru  a  mighty  empire  crushed." 

Never,  however,  did  it  come  within  the  bounds  of  my  boyish 
fancy,  that  I  should,  at  some  future  day,  stand  on  Pizarro's 
bridge  in  the  old  royal  city  of  Lima.  But  the  false  glory  of 
successful  conquest,  which  may  have  dazzled  my  youthful 
vision,  could  not  there  blind  my  eyes  to  a  lesson  realized  from 
the  dark  shadows  around  me,  and  rendered  all  the  more  im- 
pressive from  the  brilliant  lights  of  history.  The  contrast 
between  the  civilization  of  the  old  Peruvians  and  the  degen- 
erated Spaniards  was  too  striking.  Here  I  saw  a  govern- 
ment weak,  unstable,  illiberal,  whose  agents,  for  the  most 
part,  are  selfish,  unpatriotic,  or  corrupt,  whose  laws  are  un- 
certain or  unknown,  whose  justice  is  bought  and  sold.  There 
was  the  mild  and  beneficent  sway  of  the  Incas,  their  well  or- 
dered communities,  and  the  obedience  of  their  subjects;  here, 
a  defiled  religion,  that  darkens  the  understanding  to  cheat 
the  eyes, — there,  a  simple  worship,  which,  if  it  had  not  ob- 
tained Divine  illumination,  seemed  to  struggle  after  it  in  the 
adoration  of  the  Sun,  that  appeared  to  the  rational  minds  of 
the  honest  natives  as  the  Father  of  Light;  here,  a  social  con- 


48 

dition,  which,  in  its  highest  grade,  has  rather  been  refined  in 
borrowed  graces,  than  elevated  by  intelligence  or  strength- 
ened in  virtue, — there,  was  a  society  whose  virtues,  if  history 
has  not  exaggerated  them,  almost  stand  alone  in  Indian  story, 
and  that  were  all  their  own,  so  well  as  their  peaceful  arts, 
which,  even  in  the  imperfect  state  that  they  have  come  down 
to  us,  have  left  the  world  much  to  admire,  and  something 
perhaps  to  learn.  As  I  thought  of  these  things,  and  looked 
upon  the  poor  Indians  who  passed  along,  heedless  of  the  mem- 
ories of  other  days,  careless  of  the  present  or  future,  it  seemed 
to  me  that  the  weakness  of  a  tear  of  pity  for  them,  for  the 
fate  of  their  fathers  and  the  royal  race  who  ruled  over  them 
in  wisdom,  was  as  much  in  keeping  with  the  place  as  the 
strength  of  its  stones.  If  there  is  anything  in  the  character 
of  the  Spanish  conquest,  any  lustre  of  heroism,  or  glory  of 
achievement  to  constitute  this  pile  of  stones  a  monument  of 
triumphant  power  as  well  as  of  skill,  then  the  recollection  of 
the  Incas,  of  the  calm  and  manly  dignity  of  the  last  one,  go- 
ing serenely  to  his  peace,  the  setting  "Sun"  of  his  race  and 
of  his  country;  of  the  simple  minded  people,  of  their  worship, 
thoughtful  and  generous,  if  not  Christianized,  of  their  virtues 
and  their  arts,  of  their  tortures  and  heart  rending  massacres 
by  the  Romish  robbers  of  Spain,  is  enough,  yes,  far  more  than 
enough  to  make  it  indeed  a  "bridge  of  sighs." 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 
September  8,  1858.     Lat.,  9  deg,  56  min. 

Long.,  95  deg.,  15  min.  W. 

One  week  ago  to-day  we  sailed  from  the  bay  of  Callao,  leav- 
ing behind  us  the  South  American  coast,  and  now  are  steering 
nearly  due  west  on  our  passage  to  the  Sandwich  Islands. 
We  have  progressed  you  see,  as  far  as  the  95th  degree  of 
longitude,  and  although  we  have  been  out  a  week,  we  have 


49 

not  yet  got  as  far  west  as  the  California  ships  go  in  crossing 
the  Equator.  It  is  pleasant  thus  to  get  away  from  the  coast 
for  awhile,  and  change  the  scene  from  the  desert  shores  of 
Peru  to  the  livelier  drapery  of  earth  and  sky  in  the  Hawaiian 
group  of  Polynesian  Isles.  This  change,  however,  is  coupled 
with  the  disagreeable  necessity  of  leaving  the  region  of  regu- 
lar mails  for  three  months,  at  least,  and  in  the  dreary  waste 
of  Pacific  loneliness  and  degradation  this  is  quite  a  depriva- 
tion. It  requires  but  a  short  residence  on  the  South  Ameri- 
can coast  for  one  to  have,  in  the  fullest  extent,  an  apprecia- 
tion of  the  good  uses  of  the  post  office  department.  The  deep 
interest  touching  the  mail  bag,  freighted  with  its  loves,  its 
hopes,  its  fears,  its  joys  and  sorrows,  is  not  at  all  lessened  by 
what  we  see  of  the  animate  and  inanimate  existences  of  this 
part  of  the  world,  all  of  which  but  serve  to  "bind  us  to  our 
native  country  more." 

My  last  lines  for  home  were  dated  Sept.  1st,  or  rather  they 
should  have  been,  but  from  carelessness  and  the  few  min- 
utes I  had  to  write,  they  were  antedated  Aug.  1,  I  believe. 
I  had  just  returned  with  several  of  the  officers  from  Lima, 
where  we  went  the  day  previous  to  attend  the  ball  given  by 
President  Castilla,  and  as  the  ship  was  all  ready  for  sea,  and 
the  mail  bag  to  be  left  behind  for  the  next  steamer  north, 
about  to  be  closed,  there  was,  of  course,  but  little  time  for 
postscripts  to  our  letters,  and  the  hurry  of  the  occasion,  com- 
bined with  the  stupor  arising  from  the  sleeplessness  of  the 
night,  seemed  to  have  the  effect  of  putting  me  back  a  month 
in  thought,  which  as  a  reality  I  would  not  object  to  in  some 
places,  but  in  Callao  I  should  much  prefer  to  be  placed  a 
month  ahead.  I  hoped  to  have  done  with  Lima  forever  in 
my  last  letter,  and  should,  had  not  a  few  incidents  of  some 
interest  which  I  wished  to  include  in  my  jottings  been  crowd- 
ed into  the  last  few  days  of  our  Peruvian  sojourn.  Out  once 
more  on  this  vast  watery  realm,  I  had  much  rather  talk  of 
its  winds  and  waves,  than  go  back  to  the  filth,  fleas  and  fol- 
lies of  Lima.  But  then  there  is  some  advantage  gained,  per- 
haps, by  taking  the  subject  to  sea  with  me,  as  I  am  enabled 
to  give  it  an  airing,  which  I  am  sure  it  very  much  needs. 


50 

Of  the  President's  ball  I  do  not  know  that  it  is  necessary 
to  say  much,  as  I  have  already,  in  my  last  letter,  given  a 
short  account  of  a  private  one,  which  on  a  small  scale  was 
exactly  similar.  It  was  a  social  jam,  as  such  public  enter- 
tainments usually  are;  so  much  so  that  Castilla,  notwith- 
standing his  success  at  revolutions,  could  hardly  set  the  ball 
in  motion.  About  a  dozen  officers  from  the  Merrimac  and 
two  or  three  from  the  U.  S.  ship  Decatur  in  their  full  dress 
uniforms  were  presented  by  our  minister,  Mr.  Clay,  to  the 
President  at  the  old  palace,  which  occupies  one  side  of  the 
plaza.  This  edifice  has  nothing  very  palatial  about  it,  ex- 
cept perhaps  its  extent.  It  is  a  flat,  dingy-looking  yellow 
building,  mostly  occupied  by  public  offices,  and  having  a 
suite  of  private  parlors,  with  smaller  rooms  adjoining,  for 
state  occasions.  The  large  reception  room,  which  was  plainly 
furnished,  was  the  principal  place  for  dancing;  another  served 
as  a  bar-room,  and  was  well  supplied  with  bottles  and  decan- 
ters; while  three  or  four  others  were  supplied  with  well  pa- 
tronized gambling  tables. 

The  President  I  had  before  seen  on  board  the  ship,  which 
he  visited  with  his  suite  a  few  weeks  before  on  Sunday,  and, 
as  it  is  not  customary  for  our  ships  to  salute  on  that  day, 
the  usual  honors  of  manning  the  yards  and  firing  twenty-one 
guns  were  paid  the  next  day.  He  is  upwards  of  seventy 
years  old,  rather  small  in  stature  and  insignificant  in  appear- 
ance, though  he  has  a  rough  look  of  brute  energy  in  his  face. 
He  is  a  coarse  and  illiterate  man,  having  about  an  equal  share 
of  Indian  and  Spanish  blood  in  his  veins,  I  should  think. 
Personally,  he  not  preferred,  I  believe,  by  the  more  intelli- 
gent Peruvians,  but  he  is  recommended  to  them  by  the  fact 
of  being  President  de  facto,  though  not  de  jure,  by  his  com- 
mand of  the  army,  and  his  energy  in  keeping  the  peace  by 
deterring  others,  who  are  perhaps  more  worthy,  from  getting 
his  place. 

What  a  comment  on  Peru  is  it  that  her  best  citizens  prefer 
an  ignorant  usurper,  solely  because  he  has  the  physical  force 
to  maintain  the  usurpation;  that  an  honest  government  is 


51 

of  less  importance  to  them  than  the  process  of  obtaining  it. 
This  subject  of  Peruvian  politics  is  a  disgusting  one,  and  I 
will  endeavor  not  to  mention  it  again,  unless  I  should  happen 
to  stumble  on  to  the  Price  Current  and  naturally  connect  the 
two  things  together. 

The  officers  of  state,  army  and  navy,  and  foreign  ambassa- 
dors in  their  various  uniforms,  were  present  at  the  ball,  and, 
with  the  ladies  gayly  attired,  made  the  assembly  a  brilliant 
one.  I  was  rather  disappointed  in  the  beauty  of  the  ladies, 
after  what  I  had  heard  of  their  charms;  but  perhaps  I  went 
expecting  too  much.  Bringing  high  expectations  around  Cape 
Horn  is  rather  a  dangerous  experiment.  Unless  one  intends 
climbing  the  Cordilleras,  I  would  advise  him  to  leave  them  at 
home,  as  they  will  always  keep  well.  But  I  ought  not  to 
underrate  the  attractions  of  the  Limanean  fair.  Without 
being  so  strikingly  beautiful  as  some  of  our  own  country- 
women, perhaps,  through  a  want  of  radiant  expression,  they 
have  a  great  degree  of  the  passive  beauty  of  features  and 
complexion,  with  generally  very  good  forms,  and  are  some- 
what acquainted  with  the  poetry  of  motion.  They  have  not 
a  healthy  look,  however,  and  they  lack  animation.  They 
soon  reach  their  meridian  and  lose  their  attractions  in  a 
speedy  old  age,  and  not  unfrequently  in  corpulency.  There 
is  nothing  green  in  the  old  age  of  the  men  or  women  of  Lima; 
it  is  decidedly  a  dry  time  of  life  with  them.  Why  should  it 
not  be?  What  can  they  know  of  the  mellow  autumn  of  life's 
decline,  when,  having  tried  to  do  nothing  through  livelong 
years,  age  brings  a  burden  to  indolence  rather  than  a  rest 
from  toil?  The  men  have  no  look  of  intelligent  manhood 
about  them.  They  seem  to  prefer  gambling  and  cock-fight- 
ing, both  as  a  business  and  a  diversion,  while  foreigners  keep 
the  shops  and  do  most  of  the  important  work  of  the  city. 


52 

U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 
SUNDAY,  September  12,  1858.     Lat.,  9  deg.,  56  min. 
Long.,  108  deg.,  15  min.  W. 

THE  PRESIDENT'S  BALL  —  THE  LADIES  OF  LIMA  —  THEIR  DRESS 
VEILED  FACES,  ETC. 

Our  longitude  is  a  little  over  108  degrees  to-day,  I  think, 
and  latitude  about  the  same  as  before  given.  Although  we 
have  been  out  a  week  and  a  half,  the  space  which  we  have 
sailed  over  seems  to  be  an  insignificant  line  on  the  chart.  But 
this  is  the  vast  Pacific,  and  to  appreciate  its  vastness  it  is  nec- 
essary to  see  it  and  above  all  to  feel  it.  This  you  have  done 
quite  thoroughly,  and  under  circumstances  not  a  little  calcu- 
lated to  impress  you  with  these  realities,  that  are  sufficiently 
solemn  in  the  hour  of  trust  and  repose,  and  terrible  in  the 
midst  of  alarm.  You  have  been  through  these  same  watery 
latitudes  and  felt  the  delightful  fanning  of  this  soft  and 
steady  southeast  trade.  What  a  pleasure  and  what  a  power 
it  is!  Not  fickle  and  fretful,  it  blows  us  evenly  along  to  our 
destiny,  at  from  six  to  nine  knots  the  hour,  with  nothing  to 
keep  us  company  but  the  waves,  which  its  own  spirit  hath 
raised  into  glad  freedom,  and  the  delicate  little  stormy  petrel 
with  untiring  wing  flitting  o'er  the  deep,  a  creature  of  unrest, 
without  a  home,  hovering  o'er  eternity. 

But  hoping  that  these  kind  breezes  may  follow  us  over  the 
Line,  and  urge  us  onward  clear  through  the  region  of  the 
variables,  I  will  go  back  with  you  to  the  President's  ball, 
only  to  get  away  from  it,  however,  as  soon  as  possible,  for, 
if  I  have  not  said  enough  about  it  already,  I  doubt  if  I  can 
do  it  justice,  not  feeling  myself  to  be  altogether  impartial, 
such  was  the  discomfort  of  standing  up  several  consecutive 
hours  and  being  swayed  about  with  the  multitude  in  hot 
rooms,  with  now  and  then  two  or  three  fleas  taking  a  hop 
over  me  on  their  own  account,  and  biting  as  if  they  were 
conscious  that  it  was  their  last  chance.  So  far  as  the  dancing 
is  concerned,  I  suppose  it  differed  but  little  from  balls  else- 
where. It  was  made  up,  for  the  most  part,  of  the  modern 


53 

fancy  polkas  and  waltzes  with  an  occasional  quadrille  and 
contra-dance,  which  latter  differed  considerably  from  those  in 
common  use  in  the  United  States,  so  far  as  I  observed  it, 
which  was  not  very  far  I  confess,  as  in  moving  about  in  the 
crowd  it  required  not  a  little  care  to  look  out  for  my  own 
steps.  You  will  wonder  how  in  such  a  state  of  things  there 
could  be  any  dancing  at  all.  I  hardly  know  myself  how  it 
was,  except  on  the  principle  of  high  pressure,  which  was  close- 
ly adhered  to,  I  thought,  by  both  spectators  and  dancers. 
I  know  not  how  it  is,  but,  fill  a  room  as  you  will,  the  ladies 
will  always  find  space  for  dancing.  It  is  a  sort  of  mathe- 
matical paradox,  and  belongs  to  unnatural  philosophy.  If 
the  ladies  never  arrive  at  the  quadrature  of  the  circle,  they 
can  quadrille  one  at  any  time.  Each  lady,  of  course,  now-a- 
days,  is  a  circle  in  herself,  or  rather  herself  in  a  circle,  and 
not  a  small  one  either,  and  this  tends  all  the  more  to  com- 
plicate the  question.  The  matter  is  a  good  deal  involved, 
and  I  leave  it.  One  unfortunate  lady,  whom  I  saw,  had  suf- 
fered somewhat  in  her  periphery.  The  sphere  in  which  she 
moved  was  either  more  than  she  could  fill,  or  else  she  moved 
in  it  so  rapidly  that  the  centrifugal  entirely  overcame  the 
centripetal  forces;  at  all  events  a  portion  of  one  of  her  hoops 
projected  in  a  straight  line  and  described  an  exact  tangent 
to  the  circle. 

But  enough  and  more  than  enough  of  the  President's  ball. 
I  suppose  it  had  an  end,  but  I  did  not  see  it,  on  the  following 
morning.  I  think  these  entertainments  are  with  some  pro- 
priety termed  balls,  for  they  rarely  have  any  well  ascertained 
end.  Being  in  the  land  of  earthquakes  and  civil  turmoils, 
I  thought  it  not  improbable  that  the  present  affair  would  have 
a  dramatic  conclusion,  particularly  as  the  excitement  of  the 
presidential  election  was  not  over.  But  neither  the  rum- 
bling earth  disturbed  the  light  steps  of  the  "fair  women,"  nor 
did  the  cry  "to  arms"  assault  the  ears  of  the  "brave  men" 
of  Lima.  I  suppose,  like  other  assemblies  of  the  kind,  it 
wore  itself  out  with  returning  day,  carrying  the  revelry  of 
night  into  the  foggy  twilight  hours  of  a  Peruvian  morn;  that 


54 

most  graceless  time  of  drooping  charms  when  the  sober,  lead- 
en dawn  dispels  all  the  loveliness  of  the  night. 

About  two  o'clock  the  flag  lieutenant  and  myself,  not  wait- 
ing for  supper,  quietly  withdrew.  I  should  have  done  so  be- 
fore, but  former  experience  had  taught  me  that  sleep  in  Lima 
hotels  was  something  that  required  practice  to  secure,  and 
I  thought  it  quite  as  well  to  tire  out  by  standing  up  as  by 
lying  down.  As  we  left  the  long  reception  room  and  passed 
out  through  the  rough  looking  entry  with  its  brick  tiled  floor, 
I  noticed  in  the  crowd  of  spectators,  who  had  gained  admis- 
sion there  to  struggle  for  a  peep  through  the  doors  and  win- 
dows into  the  ball  rooms,  quite  a  large  number  of  the  tapa- 
das,  as  they  are  called,  or  veiled  women  dressed  in  black, 
with  nothing  of  their  faces  visible  but  their  dark  eyes. 

The  saya  y  manta,  which  I  spoke  of  in  a  former  letter,  is 
now  quite  out  of  use.  The  manta,  or  head  dress,  was  con- 
nected with  the  saya,  or  gown,  for  the  purpose  of  being  drawn 
over  the  head  and  concealing  the  face  with  the  exception  of 
one  eye,  and  is  said  to  have  been  a  very  becoming  dress  to  a 
good  form.  The  purpose  of  the  old  manta  is  now  answered 
by  an  ordinary  black  mantilla,  which  leaves  the  whole  face, 
or  one  or  two  eyes,  exposed  as  the  wearer  may  fancy.  It  is 
worn  by  all  classes  of  women  in  some  way,  particularly  in 
church  and  on  feast  days,  and  always  for  concealment,  by 
those  who  desire  to  advertise  themselves  as  fallen  from  grace, 
which  I  incline  to  think  is  not  high  enough  in  Lima  to  render  it 
altogether  a  breakneck  affair.  But  in  that  dark  clouded  group 
of  gazers  there  were  probably  others  besides  prostitutes.  There 
were,  I  dare  say,  some  of  the  uninvited  ladies,  who,  without 
doubt,  thought  themselves  worthy  of  and  expected  an  invitation 
to  the  President's  ball,  taking  sweet  revenge  with  their  dagger 
eyes,  and  notwithstanding  the  crowded  state  of  the  rooms,  look- 
ing intently  at  the  vacancies.  And  there  were,  it  may  be,  some  of 
the  invited  who  did  not  go  because  they  thought  it  would  be  a 
little  too  public  and  mixed,  and  therefore  determined  to  keep 
their  privacy  sacred  by  staying  at  home.  And  then,  too,  per- 
haps, there  were  some  of  those  who  had  worked  hard  to  com- 


55 

plete  their  arrangements  for  the  distinguished  occasion,  but 
through  some  mishap  or  defect  in  the  toilet,  or  some  other 
of  those  casualties  that  betide  the  "best  laid  plans  of  men 
and  mice,"  they  were  unavoidably  compelled  to  be  absent 
bodily,  though  present  spiritually.  There  were,  I  suppose, 
those  also  who  were  at  home  for  other  reasons,  but  their  faces 
were  so  much  in  the  dark  that  I  could  not  well  discriminate 
so  as  to  classify  them.  If  there  were  any  there  who  were 
prevented  by  ill  health  from  going  out  to  the  ball,  I  could 
not  distinguish  them. 

A  fine  arrangement  certainly,  is  this  tapada  habit  for  those 
ladies  who  wish  to  go  to  an  evening  entertainment,  but  can- 
not for  the  want  of  an  invitation  or  some  other  reason;  and 
for  those  invited  who  don't  know  what  to  do,  but  want  to 
go  and  to  stay  at  home  at  the  same  time.  It  is  particularly 
well  adapted  to  those  who  seem  to  be  very  indifferent  about 
going,  and  do  not,  but  after  the  event,  spend  a  week  in  ask- 
ing questions  about  it.  It  is  a  very  convenient  way  of  tak- 
ing the  veil,  too;  retiring  from  the  world  and  yet  seeing  a 
great  deal  more  of  it.  This  may  account  for  there  being  so 
few  nuns  in  the  convents  of  Lima.  This  manner  of  dress 
gives  the  ladies  a  great  many  privileges,  but  it  compels  them 
to  submit  to  some  sacrifices.  Their  object  seems  to  be  to 
make  themselves  nobodies  in  particular,  and  the  gentlemen 
claim  the  right  of  talking  to  them  as  nobodies,  and  saying 
very  much  what  they  choose,  without  being  responsible.  As 
they  conceal  everything  but  their  eyes,  I  suppose  that  they 
are  not  presumed  to  have  any  ears.  If  the  ladies  of  Lima 
will  "love  darkness  rather  than  light,"  I  do  not  know  why 
the  other  sex  have  not  the  right  to  think  that  it  is  because 
"their  deeds  are  evil."  Most  of  the  beauty  of  their  faces  is 
generally  in  the  eyes,  and  this  custom  enables  them  to  make 
it  more  conspicuous  by  veiling  the  other  features  if  they  do 
not  harmonize.  I  doubt  if  these  clouds  often  obscure  the 
more  attractive  faces. 

Having  passed  by  the  Indian  looking  soldiers  on  guard  near 
the  door,  and  the  tapadas,  also  on  the  watch  with  their  masked 


56 

battery  of  eyes,  we  pressed  our  way  along  through  the  crowd, 
among  whom  were  several  Indian  women,  whose  dark  faces, 
in  connection  with  the  tapadas,  made  quite  a  contrast  with 
the  bright,  joyous  scene  within.  These  women  were  probably 
the  wives  of  some  of  the  soldiers,  by  whom  they  were  per- 
mitted to  stand  near  the  threshold  to  witness  a  pageant 
strange  and  unusual  to  them.  Their  sombre,  expressionless 
faces  needed  no  veil  to  darken  them;  they  were  tapadas  by 
nature.  But  their  faces  were  not  darker  than  seems  to  be 
their  destiny.  Gazing  sullenly  with  rayless  eyes,  they  looked 
just  as  they  should  look,  who  have  but  little  in  this  world  to 
look  for,  except  its  unwelcome  necessities,  and  have  already 
entered  the  shadow  of  an  impending  doom. 

We  returned  to  the  hotel,  and  after  knocking  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  at  the  closed  gate,  were  admitted  by  the  drowsy 
porter  to  our  room.  For  about  four  or  five  hours  the  fleas 
and  myself  waged  war,  which  was  desperate  enough  for  a 
war  of  extermination,  but  I  incline  to  think  that  I  did  myself 
more  damage  than  the  enemy.  They  certainly  succeeded  in 
conquering  sleep,  if  it  had  not  already  been  effectually  ban- 
ished by  the  previous  excitement  of  the  night.  Morning  be- 
gan to  peep  into  the  window,  and  found  both  parties  still  in 
possession  of  the  field,  but  as  my  forces  were  somewhat  weak- 
ened, I  concluded  to  draw  them  off,  the  foe  all  the  time  in 
hot  pursuit. 

After  breakfasting  and  bidding  farewell  to  friends  who  had 
been  very  kind  to  us,  we  took  the  cars  about  nine  o'clock  for 
Callao,  soon  leaving  behind  us  the  old  city  with  its  venerable 
towers,  and  the  burial  mounds  a  few  miles  out  on  our  left, 
looking  sombre  in  the  cloudy  light  that  shone  upon  them, 
and  dusty  as  ever  in  their  long  labor  of  decay. 

We  reached  the  ship,  as  I  have  said  before,  in  time  to  add 
a  hasty  line  to  our  letters,  and  in  a  few  minutes  were  sur- 
rounded by  the  dancing  waves. 

I  designed  to  make  some  allusion  to  the  bull  fight  which  I 
saw  in  Lima,  but  the  spectacle  was  such  a  disgusting  one, 
that  the  mere  mention  of  it  is  enough  for  me,  this  evening  at 
all  events. 


57 

This  is  a  most  beautiful  Sabbath  night.  The  weather  is 
delightful,  every  day  growing  a  little  warmer  as  we  approach 
the  Equator.  To-night  the  increasing  moon  lights  up  the  sea, 
which  answers  to  the  sky  in  glory.  The  chaplain  has  preached 
earnestly  to-day,  and  the  choir  have  chanted  well;  but  what 
a  sermon  and  anthem  are  around  and  above  us!  The  calm 
and  beauty  of  this  Pacific  Sabbath  night,  who  here  so  dead 
that  he  cannot  feel;  the  unlabored  discourse  of  the  sky  and 
moon  and  stars;  the  low  swelling  hymn  of  the  sea  touched 
by  the  melodious  winds,  who  so  deaf  that  he  cannot  hear 
them,  who  so  lost  as  to  heed  them  not! 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 
WEDNESDAY,  Sept.  15,  1858.     Lat.  9  deg.,  56  min. 
Long.  117  deg.,  15  min.  W. 

WEATHER  ON  THE   PACIFIC. 

This  is  the  night,  and  the  nights  are  now  so  attractive  that 
I  can  hardly  resist  the  temptation  to  be  on  the  upper  deck. 
The  days  are  no  less  delightful  than  the  nights.  The  sun's 
red  radiance  scarcely  illuminates  the  western  waters,  ere  the 
moon's  mellow  light  pales  the  eastern  waves.  This  is  truly 
the  perfection  of  climate;  the  poetry  of  sailing.  We  have 
experienced  nothing  like  it  in  our  cruising.  Fine  weather  we 
have  had  generally  at  sea  in  the  Pacific,  both  in  the  tropical 
and  temperate  latitudes,  but  this  belongs  to  the  superlative 
degree.  Here  are  the  brightest  days  of  earth  shining,  and 
shining  on  forever  to  the  satiate  sea,  with  only  here  and  there 
a  mariner.  We  have  now  been  out  a  fortnight,  sailing  from 
one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hundred  miles  a  day,  and  yet 
have  seen  but  one  ship,  an  American  clipper,  bound  probably 
for  California.  A  selfish  morality  perhaps  would  question  the 
wisdom  of  this  apparent  waste  of  sunshine,  and  mildly  tern- 


58 

pered  breeze.  But  weather  morality  is  everywhere  rather  a 
subject  of  feeling  than  of  thought.  And  it  is  for  this  reason 
perhaps  that  the  weather  is  such  a  commonplace  theme; 
commonplace,  because  we  regard  it  as  a  settled  result  more 
than  a  process  still  going  on;  because  our  nerves  of  sensation 
have  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it,  and  they  are  very  common- 
place things;  because  we  are  not  apt  enough  to  look  down 
upon  it  from  the  upper  air  of  contemplation  higher  than  the 
clouds  of  prejudice  and  feeling,  where  we  can  behold  the 
noiseless  energies  above  that  make  the  storm,  while  we  hear 
its  voice  below.  Does  it  oftener  occur  to  us,  that  foul  weath- 
er and  fair  are  complements  of  each  other  in  the  eternal  round 
of  nature,  that  the  brightest  summer  day  is  working  out  per- 
haps her  darkest  night,  and  the  most  cloudy  curtain  hangs 
beneath  the  clearest  sky?  While  we  sail  so  pleasantly  through 
these  bright,  genial  Pacific  latitudes,  the  spirit  of  these  rest- 
less waters  is  being  constantly  raised  from  its  tossing,  trou- 
bled bed  by  the  sunbeam  into  the  calmer  regions  above,  thence 
to  be  borne  along  to  the  west  by  these  winds  that  move  around 
the  globe;  and  after  being  whirled,  it  may  be,  by  the  fierce 
typhoon,  and  wafted  o'er  Chinese  and  Indian  plains,  it  may 
descend  again  to  quench  the  rude  African's  thirst  or  water 
European  ruins,  or  be  caught  within  the  Atlantic's  sphere, 
and  transported  to  Columbia's  shores  to  strengthen  our  north- 
ern blasts  or  gently  fall  in  summer  showers.  Could  we  de- 
tect this  interesting  process  with  the  eye,  and  enlarge  our 
vision  to  something  like  its  entire  comprehension,  we  should 
learn  a  little  better,  aside  from  their  great  abilities  to  see  in 
the  leaden  clouds,  that  sometimes  so  sadly  interrupt  our  busi- 
ness and  deaden  our  pleasures,  not  so  much  foul  as  fair  weath- 
er creations,  representative  of  the  bright  glories  of  various 
climes;  and  find  in  the  raindrop  a  little  ocean  gem  of  con- 
centrated sunshine,  falling  like  a  tear  that  comes  from  the 
warmth  of  the  soul,  while  it  partially  obscures  the  light  of 
the  eye. 

But  this  may  be  fair  weather  philosophy  —  and  perhaps  I 
had  better  wait  until  we  get  into  the  variables  or  "doldroms," 


59 

as  they  are  called,  and  see  if  my  practice  and  theory  coincide. 
It  would  be  rather  hard,  it  must  be  confessed,  in  one  of  our 
cold  northeasters,  while  it  was  trying  the  whalebone  of  our 
umbrellas  and  penetrating  with  its  chills  to  our  very  marrow, 
to  look  up  to  the  clouds  and  think  of  them  as  the  emanations 
from  sunny  climes,  except  as  being  a  part  of  the  original  sin 
from  Paradise,  derived  for  the  purpose  of  calling  the  atten- 
tion of  Adam  and  Eve  to  the  fact  that  they  were  sadly  in 
want  of  clothes!  But  however  it  may  be  with  clouds,  our 
sunshine  requires  no  philosophy,  no  stretch  of  the  imagina- 
tion. And  it  is  well  for  us  that  we  do  not  have  to  work  as 
hard  to  appreciate  a  fine  day  as  the  elements  do  to  make  one. 
If  we  did,  it  is  not  improbable  that  our  prayers  for  rain  would 
go  up  much  oftener  than  they  do.  If  we  were  obliged  to  ex- 
tract our  sunshine  out  of  cucumbers,  we  should  praise  a  little 
more  the  clouds  that  nourish  them. 

From  the  weather  in  general,  let  us  come  down  to  the 
weather  in  particular.  Last  night  was  the  most  attractive 
one  that  I  have  yet  seen  at  sea.  It  was  not  what  would 
usually  be  called  perfect,  perhaps,  for  it  had  its  clouds;  but 
such  clouds  as  seem  to  arise  not  so  much  to  hide  the  moon  as  to 
drape  the  skies;  morning  panoramas  of  fleecy  light  themselves, 
as  they  careered  through  the  heavens  before  night's  silvery  orb; 
beings  of  life,  as  they  almost  seemed,  passing  along  in  grand 
procession  before  the  bright  queen  enthroned  among  the  stars. 
They  may  add  a  little  gloom  to  the  night  shadows  of  the  land; 
but  the  solemnity  of  the  sea,  though  illumined  rather  than 
darkened  by  the  night,  I  think  appears  more  kindly  in  their 
presence. 

In  the  intense  longing  to  see  anything  that  has  life  at  sea, 
what  wonder  is  there  that  the  eye  should  follow  the  flying 
clouds,  voyagers  to  the  West,  like  ourselves,  with  all  their 
white  sails  rounded  out  in  the  winds  that  waft  them  through 
the  blue  heights  above;  bright  mariners  of  the  skies,  lighted 
by  heaven's  million  lamps,  but  finding  no  harbor  of  undis- 
turbed repose? 

But  quite  enough  to-day  of  the  weather,  which  you  be- 


«  60 

come  fully  acquainted  with  at  home.  Outside  of  this  floating 
prison-house  of  ours,  it  is  all  I  have  to  talk  about,  and  where 
the  weather  is  so  delightful  as  it  is  now,  I  do  not  like  to  con- 
fine my  thoughts  to  the  dull,  artificial  routine  of  a  man-of- 
war.  This  is  another  blessed  night,  and  twelve  o'clock.  The 
boatswain's  mates  are  arousing  the  drowsy  sailors  from  their 
sound  and  sonorous  sleep,  with  the  harsh,  guttural  call  of 
"all  the  starboard  watch,"  the  tone  of  which  would  lead  one 
to  think  that  it  was  intended  to  summon  them  from  the 
sleep  that  knows  no  waking.  It  is  a  sort  of  "knell  of  part- 
ing day,"  which  the  sailors  have  gratis,  with  the  additional 
satisfaction  of  going  up  on  deck  to  see  or  feel  the  coming  of 
another.  I  will  come  down  from  the  clouds  and  bid  you 
good  night,  which  is  far  spent  with  you  'ere  this,  and  passed 
away  before  the  glorious  light  of  a  mild,  sweet  scented  au- 
tumnal morning. 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 
SUNDAY,  September  19,  1858. 

BULL  FIGHT   IN    LIMA  —  THE   TAP  ADAS  —  CITY   OF    LIMA,  ETC. 

Our  longitude  yesterday  was  upwards  of  124  degrees;  lati- 
tude, 2  degrees,  42  seconds.  What  our  position  is  to-day  I 
have  not  seen.  We  are  approaching  the  Equator  again,  you 
see,  and  shall  probably  cross  it  day  after  to-morrow  for  the 
fourth  time.  The  weather  is  quite  warm;  the  mercury  rang- 
ing about  80  degrees.  The  southeast  trade  continues  fresh 
generally,  the  days  bright,  the  nights  beautiful. 

In  my  last  notice  of  Lima,  a  few  days  since,  I  spoke  of  at- 
tending a  bull  fight,  and,  before  going  further  with  this  long 
letter,  I  will  here  make  a  passing  allusion  to  it.  I  do  so  re- 
luctantly, for  we  take  quite  as  little  pleasure  in  writing  about 
disagreeable  things  as  we  do  in  seeing  them.  This  is  the 
most  exciting  diversion  which  the  Limanians  have,  but  it  is 


61 

now  of  rare  occurrence.  This  would  seem  to  indicate  an  ad- 
vance of  refinement,  but  as  a  result  rather  than  a  cause  of 
the  disuse  of  bull  fights,  I  am  inclined  to  think.  They  are 
patronized  by  the  state,  and  the  quiet  or  anxious  state  of 
mind  of  public  functionaries  has  much  to  do  with  their  ex- 
hibition. As  a  national  sport  of  Old  Spain,  I  desired  to  see 
one  once,  although  I  anticipated  all  the  disgust,  which  was  so 
abundantly  realized.  We  have  all  of  us  heard  of  Spanish 
bull  fights  from  our  infancy,  and  not  to  see  one  when  an  op- 
portunity offers  would  hardly  be  treating  our  recollections 
fairly.  We  may  regret  very  much  that  Spain  could  not  in- 
corporate among  her  national  institutions  a  more  humane 
and  elevated  custom,  but  she  has  consulted  her  own  tastes, 
not  ours,  and  we  accept  the  custom  not  for  its  own  sake,  but 
for  the  sake  of  Spain.  It  is  well  that  our  associations  act  in- 
dependently of  our  judgments,  which  are  wise  counsellors  for 
to-day  and  excellent  providers  for  to-morrow,  but  cannot 
measure  all  the  delicate  wisdom  and  power  of  yesterday.  I 
went  to  the  bull  fight,  not  to  see  the  living  and  dying  tor- 
tures of  poor  dumb  beasts,  but  to  see  Lima,  and  more  than 
all,  perhaps,  from  respect  to  associated  feelings,  which  had 
their  impulse  originally  in  the  picture  of  a  bull  fight  in  old 
Olney's  geography.  The  picture  was  not  distinguished  as  a 
work  of  art,  but  it  made  its  impression;  and  was  in  a  book 
over  which,  like  other  school  boys,  I  studied  and  played, 
wept  and  laughed.  If  I  had  seen  the  bull  fight  before  study- 
ing Olney,  and  had  time  to  condemn  the  thing  itself  before 
time  had  consecrated  its  picture,  I  should  have  been  differ- 
ently disposed. 

The  bull  ring  of  Lima  is  located  not  far  from  the  old  ala- 
meda,  or  public  place  for  walking  and  driving  in  the  city, 
and  has  a  large  capacity.  It  is  a  rough  looking,  yellow,  cir- 
cular wall,  about  twenty  feet  high  perhaps,  made  of  coarse 
bricks  and  plastered,  I  think,  divided  on  the  inside  into  small 
apartments  that  project  a  few  feet  from  the  wall,  or  the  up- 
per portion  of  it,  like  the  boxes  in  a  theatre,  with  a  roof  over- 
head. These  boxes  extend  around  the  ring,  and  in  front  and 


62 

beneath  them  are  the  more  common  seats,  which  extend 
quite  to  the  ring.  A  portion  of  the  boxes  are  reserved  for 
the  public  officers,  foreign  ministers,  etc.  Guard  posts  are 
erected  in  the  centre  of  the  ring,  and  in  several  places  around 
it,  to  protect  the  combatants  from  the  fury  of  the  bulls.  At 
the  invitation  of  the  American  minister,  some  of  the  officers 
of  the  ship,  including  myself,  occupied  his  box.  The  weather 
was  not  sufficiently  warm  to  stimulate  the  blood  of  the  ani- 
mals to  the  utmost,  but  some  of  them  were  altogether  too 
fierce  for  the  matadores.  Some  eight  or  ten  of  them  were 
successively  brought  into  the  ring,  and  about  half  of  them 
were  killed.  The  matadores,  or  bull  killers,  of  whom  there 
were  four  or  five,  were  on  foot.  In  Spain,  I  think,  they  usu- 
ally fight  on  horses.  There  were  several  other  combatants  to 
run  before  the  beasts  and  flaunt  red  and  other  colored  flags 
in  their  faces,  as  well  as  torture  them  by  hanging  streaming 
bunches  of  high  colored  strips  of  paper,  attached  to  sharp 
hooks,  in  their  necks,  and  by  throwing  loaded  spears,  that  ex- 
ploded in  the  flesh  while  adhering,  and  by  other  studied 
cruelties,  equally  revolting.  Paper  caricatures  of  men  or 
women,  loaded  with  explosive  combustibles,  were  placed  in 
the  ring  for  the  beasts  to  attack  with  their  horns. 

One  unfortunate  dame  went  off  in  a  spontaneous  combus- 
tion before  she  encountered  the  bull's  horns.  It  was  obvious 
that,  goaded  by  so  many  tortures  and  fretted  by  so  many 
annoyances  within  the  ring,  with  the  excitement  of  the  im- 
mense throng  surrounding  it,  the  bulls  were  confused  and 
unable  to  concentrate  their  eyes  long  on  one  individual,  which 
gave  their  enemies  every  advantage  over  them.  After  the 
animal  was  considerably  exhausted,  the  matadore  presented 
himself  with  a  long  dagger  to  stab  him  through  the  neck  and 
spine.  If  skilfully  done,  it  brought  him  at  once  to  the  ground, 
but  in  only  one  instance  was  this  effected,  I  think.  One  furi- 
ous bull  was  struck  nearly  a  dozen  times  before  he  fell.  It 
was  all  a  butchery,  and  a  very  bungling  one,  certainly.  It 
was  too  gross  and  murderous  to  admit  of  any  more  detailed 
description.  As  a  display  of  skill,  it  failed  altogether;  as  a 


63 

display  of  daring,  the  advantage  was  entirely  on  the  side  of 
the  bulls;  but,  instead  of  having  their  horns  crowned  with 
garlands,  they  were  ignominiously  dragged  about  the  ring 
weltering  in  their  gore,  while  some  poor  wretch  picked  up  the 
money  and  received  the  huzzas  of  the  multitude.  One  man 
was  chased  and  run  down  by  a  bull,  and  then  tossed  in  the 
air,  but  not  injured  otherwise  than  having  a  good  shaking, 
which  I  thought  he  very  much  deserved.  In  the  centre  of 
the  ring,  above  a  small  platform  elevated  on  the  posts,  there 
was  a  portrait  of  the  present  French  emperor,  to  whom  the 
grand  function,  as  it  was  called,  was  dedicated.  There  were, 
I  should  think,  not  far  from  ten  thousand  people  to  witness 
the  spectacle,  a  few  of  whom  were  well  dressed  women,  and 
there  were  a  large  number  of  the  latter,  I  was  told,  concealed 
behind  the  ring  and  peeping  out  below  the  lower  platform, 
which  was  elevated  a  little  above  it.  Most  of  these  were 
tapadas,  I  suppose,  with  their  eyes  stabbing  in  the  dark.  A 
short  time  before  dusk  the  exhibition  ended,  and  the  giddy 
throng  withdrew,  leaving  the  arena  with  the  poor  brutes  who 
lay  there  mingled  -with  its  dust,  in  which  they  breathed  out 
the  last  of  their  long  agony. 

Outside  of  the  walls  an  animated  scene  was  presented  in 
the  alameda  by  the  multitude  and  the  carriages  with  ladies, 
some  of  whom  had  attended  the  bloody  work  of  the  ring, 
others  had  come  to  see  the  crowd  disperse.  And  along  the 
sidewalk,  drawn  up  in  a  row,  were  the  tapadas,  some  of  them 
quite  elegantly  dressed,  all  in  black,  leaving  the  passers  by  to 
infer  who  and  what  they  were  as  best  they  could,  from  pairs 
of  eyes  and  arms,  whose  light  only  made  the  surrounding 
darkness  more  visible.  Where  so  much  was  left  to  inference, 
there  was  certainly  some  room  for  doubt.  Some  of  them, 
from  their  laughing  familiarity  with  the  gentlemen,  appeared 
to  be  ladies  who  were  recognized  by  their  friends  and  could 
no  longer  screen  themselves,  or  their  designs  to  enjoy  a  little 
coquetry  and  light  hearted  fun.  Others  looked  darkly  des- 
olate, unrecognized,  uncared  for,  abandoned! 

Their  darkness  was  a  fitting  emblem  of  their  condition. 


64 

They  stood  alone,  mantled  in  blackness;  not  so  much  as  ex- 
posing themselves  to  the  world's  charity;  living  without  any 
day;  wearing  about  them  continuous  night,  from  which  their 
eyes  wandered  forth,  not  bright  and  beaming  with  starlight 
faith,  but  wild  and  wanton  as  the  light  that  flickers  from  a 
sinking  wreck! 

I  heard  that  the  bull  fights  have  degenerated  very  much 
from  what  they  formerly  were.  Whether  this  can  be  true 
of  such  a  cruel  and  depraved  show,  or  not,  I  was  inclined 
rather  to  attribute  the  degeneracy  to  the  race  who  patronize 
them. 

Now  that  I  am  back  again  in  Lima,  I  will  add  a  few  lines 
further  in  regard  to  the  place.  Lima  is  not  a  city  of  many 
public  amusements.  I  think  that  it  has  but  one  theatre,  and 
that  a  very  indifferent  one,  where  I  found,  as  elsewhere,  the 
principal  actors  were  the  fleas,  and  I  can  testify,  all  over  me, 
as  to  the  tragic  effects  which  they  produced.  They  do  not 
seem  to  care  much  for  the  severe  dignity  of  the  classic  school, 
but  jump  through  all  restraints,  so  carried  away  are  they  by 
their  passion  for  penetrating  human  nature!  During  the 
Vice-royalty,  I  was  told,  the  city  was  far  more  attractive  in 
her  amusements,  as  well  as  in  her  social  life  generally,  than 
now.  The  numerous  quarrels,  factions  and  cliques  of  latter 
days  have  brought  mourning  and  all  kinds  of  embittered 
feeling  into  those  circles,  that  ought  to  be  centres  of  every 
good  influence  in  the  State;  and  this  condition  of  affairs,  as 
it  is  enough  to  account  for  her  unhappy  political  and  moral 
society,  will  furnish  sufficient  reason  for  the  poverty  of  her 
lighter  graces  and  arts. 

Lima,  is  on  the  whole,  a  grave  looking  city.  Aside  from 
what  has  just  been  stated,  this  may  be  due  in  part  to  the 
native  Spanish  temperament,  and  perhaps  to  the  physical 
convulsions,  which  so  constantly  threatened  her  security. 
It  is  the  gravity,  however,  which  proceeds  in  a  great  measure 
from  her  appearances,  manners  and  amusements  even,  not 
from  her  convictions.  Her  principles  are  all  vain  and  shal- 
low. Her  religion  is  a  dumb,  empty  show;  her  morality 


NATHANIEL  OILMAN  PERRY 


65 

loose;  her  politics  conceited  and  childish,  even  when  honest; 
her  justice,  like  her  veiled  women,  always  having  one  eye  open. 
Her  great  amusement,  if  amusement  it  can  be  called,  is 
gambling,  as  of  her  worn  out  mother  Spain;  or  rather  I  should 
say,  it  is  more  her  business  than  her  pleasure. 

Lima,  of  course,  must  have  her  household  joys;  but  very 
few,  if  any,  for  the  open  air.  There  is  no  bounding,  light 
hearted,  buoyant  childhood  running  in  her  streets;  no  in- 
vigorating, generous  sports  animating  her  out  door  life.  Her 
girls  look  like  prim  young  dames  nicely  padded  and  hooped, 
to  keep  their  girlhood  fast.  Her  women  look  like  over 
grown  girls.  Her  boys  look  like  little  men.  Her  men  act 
like  little  boys.  Seeing  her  citizens  in  the  cockpit  or  over 
the  gaming  table,  you  would  say  they  were  hard  at  work, 
intent  and  in  earnest.  Seeing  them  in  the  real  business  of 
life,  public  or  private,  you  would  say  they  were  at  play. 
Being  generally  too  lazy  to  work,  their  pleasures  naturally 
assume  the  air  of  business. 

Such  is  Lima:  a  city  of  "strenuous  idleness;"  having  no 
zeal  for  earnest  work;  no  out-springing,  joyous  heart  for  real 
play.  Her  pleasures  never  seem  to  wear  a  laugh,  or  her 
work  to  have  the  strength  of  a  sober  purpose.  But  the  wis- 
dom of  life  admits  of  no  such  interchanged  and  contrasted 
conditions  in  her  most  useful  and  necessary  instrumentali- 
ties. Lima  seems  not  to  have  learned  that  work  and  play 
cannot  wear  each  other's  livery  and  preserve  their  proper 
uses,  any  more  than  the  joyful  vine  and  honorable  column, 
that  support  each  other,  can  change  places,  without  turning 
a  design  of  harmony  and  beauty  into  a  disorder  of  folly. 
It  is  evident  that  the  energy  of  the  old  Spaniards  has  died 
out  from  Peru.  They  did  their  bad  work  of  conquest  effec- 
tually. They  conquered  everything  but  ignominy,  and  per- 
petuated that,  by  leaving  behind  them  a  race  to  quarrel  and 
dance  over  their  graves) 


66 

U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 
TUESDAY,  September  21,  1858. 

PASSING   THE   EQUATOR. 

Our  longitude  to-day  at  12  was  upwards  of  130  degrees, 
and  our  latitude  about  0,  or  equatorial.  We  crossed  the  line 
about  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  did  not  go  above  to 
witness  the  important  event,  but  believe  that  we  got  over 
safely.  Old  Neptune  sometimes  exacts  toll,  but  in  consid- 
eration of  our  guns  he  gave  us  a  free  passage.  The  venerable 
gentleman  is  becoming  quite  liberal.  This  is  the  fourth  time 
we  have  crossed  his  great  mark  without  being  stopped,  or 
without  his  coming  aboard  to  receive  our  homage.  I  believe, 
however,  that  he  did  make  a  short  visit  to  the  forecastle  dur- 
ing our  first  passage  in  the  Atlantic.  As  I  did  not  see  him,  I 
cannot  describe  him  to  you,  but  I  think  that  you  have  had 
an  introduction.  It  was  owing  to  peculiar  circumstances, 
you  know,  that  I  did  not  then  see  him.  I  felt  his  presence 
very  perceptibly.  While  we  are  passing  the  Equator  in  one 
direction,  the  sun  is  just  about  to  go  over  in  the  opposite. 
Of  course  he  is  exactly  over  head.  It's  a  pity  that  two  such 
influential  characters  cannot  remain  together  in  the  same 
hemisphere.  We  cheerfully  acknowledge  his  Solar  Highness, 
but  he  assumes  an  air  of  distance,  looks  down  upon  us  and 
then  gives  us  the  go-by.  While  he  is  so  useful  to  us  in  throw- 
ing so  much  light  on  our  ocean  pathway  and  its  whereabout, 
we  wish,  now  that  he  is  over  head,  he  would  let  us  have  a 
drop  letter,  giving  us  later  news  from  the  North,  the  where- 
abouts and  whatabouts  of  our  friends.  As  it  is,  we  have  to 
take  Solomon's  word  for  it,  that  there  is  no  news  under  the 
sun. 

No  news  is  very  good  news,  as  far  as  it  goes,  and  we  ought 
to  be  thankful  that  it  is  no  worse,  but,  in  these  over  stimu- 
lated times,  as  it  doesn't  break  any  body's  neck  or  set  fire 
to  anything,  it  is  apt  to  be  treated  with  indifference.  I 
doubt,  however,  whether  Solomon  would  ever  have  said  that 
there  is  no  new  thing  under  the  sun,  if  he  had  gone  to  sea, 


67 

and  been  anxious  to  hear  from  his  large  and  growing  family! 
News,  like  many  other  things,  is  exceedingly  relative  in  its 
character,  and  a  man's  latitude  and  longitude  have  a  good 
deal  to  do  with  it. 

We  have  not  yet  had  the  equinoctial  storm,  but,  as  the 
almanacs  say,  I  suppose  it  may  be  expected  about  this  time. 
To  one  acquainted  with  the  Southern  half  of  our  globe,  it 
doesn't  seem  so  strange  that  the  sun  should  make  such  a 
sensation  and  shed  such  floods  of  tears  in  leaving  the  northern 
hemisphere,  so  poorly  is  his  light  appreciated,  and  so  few 
of  the  just  are  there  down  in  these  parts  for  him  to  shine  on. 
If  meteorologists  would  let  morality  help  their  physics,  now 
and  then,  perhaps  they  would  get  a  little  new  light.  But, 
soberly,  if  there  is  novelty  in  the  fact  of  having  the  sun  di- 
rectly over  our  heads  to-day,  certainly  there  ought  to  be 
sublimity  enough  to  awaken,  at  least,  a  transient  emotion. 
We  gaze,  however,  as  idly  as  ever  into  the  air  and  call  it  va- 
cancy, and  look  out  upon  these  waters  and  call  them  a  waste. 
If  the  sun  were  to  drop  pearls  at  our  feet,  we  should  think 
more  of  the  pearls  than  of  the  sun.  To-day  he  appears  to 
us  in  the  midst  of  this  vast  ocean  as  he  probably  will  never 
appear  again.  To-day  he  shines  in  mid  heaven  upon  us  in 
mid  ocean!  To-day  he  takes  his  longest  look  at  us,  but 
after  a  moment's  curiosity  is  indulged,  we  think  no  more  of 
him. 

For  many  years  we  have  felt  the  impress  of  his  seasons, 
each  so  pleasant  and  fitting  in  its  turn.  To-day  we  seem  to 
see  them  all  above  us,  but  think  as  little  of  their  gathered  as  of 
their  parted  gifts.  Clear  into  the  southern  hemisphere  shoot 
the  glad  rays  of  life  restoring  spring;  just  behind  falls  the 
gorgeous  summer;  while  genial  autumn  mellows  the  temper- 
ate north,  and  fast  behind  comes  on  stern  but  honest  winter. 

Here,  too,  mingle  the  two  great  winds  that  flow  around 
the  world,  sweeping  both  hemispheres;  here  the  great  Pacific 
equatorial  current  runs,  coming  out  of  the  south,  and  flowing 
to  the  west  and  then  the  north.  Around  this  imaginary  line, 
which  we  have  just  crossed,  cluster  all  the  sublimities  of  sun, 


68 

air,  ocean,  and  our  own  base  indifference!  The  vast  heaving 
waters  are  laboring  unceasingly  to  join  the  ocean  hemi- 
spheres, but  weary  voyagers  that  we  are,  how  little  do  our 
minds  move  with  their  unending  flow;  the  swift  winds  are 
flying  with  the  sun,  but  how  feebly  do  our  thoughts  take 
wing,  how  fearfully  they  hold  back  from  these  immensities; 
in  the  blue  firmament  above  the  orb  of  day,  with  spring  and 
summer  in  the  van,  leads  on  autumn  and  winter  in  the  grand 
march  of  the  seasons;  but  how  faintly  do  our  hearts  beat 
time  to  its  celestial  harmony! 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MEERIMAC,  AT  SEA, 
SUNDAY,  September  26,  1858. 

THE   SHARK   AND   PILOT  PISH. 

To-day  at  12  o'clock,  our  longitude  was  about  135  degrees, 
latitude  10  degrees.  We  are  now  fairly  in  the  "doldrums." 
The  wind  blows  lightly  all  around  the  compass,  and  the  men 
are  kept  constantly  at  the  braces.  Every  quarter  or  half 
hour  a  rain  squall  passes  over  with  but  little  wind,  and  the 
sea  and  sky  are  dark  with  clouds  and  rain.  What  a  con- 
trast with  the  bright  heavens  of  a  few  days  since!  But  we 
are  in  the  stormy  north!  All  the  past  week  has  been  as  pleas- 
ant as  the  elements  could  make  it.  The  nights  have  been 
beautiful.  Tuesday  night  in  particular,  was  one  to  be  re- 
membered. Such  purity  of  air  I  have  hardly  ever  before 
noticed.  The  full  round  moon,  that  dazzled  with  light, 
seemed  to  stand  out  from  the  clear  blue  sky,  so  that  you 
could  see  behind  it.  We  generally  see  it  in  the  heavens,  but 
on  Tuesday  night  it  acknowledged  its  allegiance  to  earth. 
It  came  down  from  the  infinite  above,  and  took  its  place  as  a 
satellite.  Notwithstanding  the  light  of  the  moon,  some  of 
the  very  stars  and  planets  seemed  to  reveal  their  distances  to 


69 

our  telescopic  eyes,  and  rival  the  Queen  of  Night  in  brilliancy. 
I  call  it  night,  but  it  seemed  as  if  the  planets  had  left  their 
places  and  come  down  to  be  suns,  and  the  heavens  were 
projected  forward  by  the  vast  convex  firmament  of  air,  such 
was  its  clearness.  Venus  shone  with  power  and  beauty  in 
the  western  sky,  and,  long  ere  the  day  went  down,  stood 
ready  to  catch  the  light  from  her  sinking  soul.  A  little  fur- 
ther to  the  north,  Arcturus  rose  sparkling  from  the  wave. 
More  to  the  south,  looked  forth  Mars,  shining  with  a  some- 
what lesser  light,  his  warlike  front  subdued,  and  crimson  fire 
purged  away  by  the  all  pervading  purity.  Jupiter  and 
Sirius  came  tardily  into  the  east,  where  the  Pleiades  were 
shedding  their  "sweet  influences,"  and  glory  encircling  the 
band  of  Orion.  Every  thing  had  precision  and  distinctness, 
and  the  dark  blue  horizon  of  waters  stood  out  from  the  sky 
to  divide  the  wonders  above  from  the  wonders  below.  It 
was  honor  enough  for  the  sea  to  be  the  mirror  for  such  a 
scene,  but  the  glory  which  it  reflected  back  seemed  only  to 
have  come  down  to  light  up  its  own  sublimity.  Looking 
up  into  the  spangled  dome  of  such  a  night,  contemplation 
could  well  fancy  that  space  itself  revealed  something  of  its 
depths  and  heights  in  the  clear  burning  of  the  thousand  lamps 
that  illumined  its  eternity! 

During  the  last  week  we  have  seen  nothing  scarcely,  that 
has  life  beyond  our  own  walls.  Only  one  fellow  voyager  has 
given  us  evidence  that  we  are  not  alone  on  the  world  of 
waters,  and  he  appeared  but  for  a  few  short  hours.  Even 
the  birds  have  gone,  and  their  buoyant  wings  no  longer  en- 
liven the  desolation  of  the  deep.  The  little  petrel,  that 
never  before  has  forsaken  us,  refuses  to  follow  now.  He 
no  more  flits  over  the  waves  behind  us,  half  flying,  half  run- 
ning with  his  light,  airy  step.  We  have  passed  the  limits 
of  even  their  almost  boundless,  wild  wave  home. 

I  have  looked  day  after  day  for  the  spouting  of  the  huge 
leviathans  of  the  deep,  but  have  seen  nothing  that  looks  like 
it,  save  the  dashing  spray  of  the  billows  as  they  roll  their 
huge  bulks  towards  the  west.  The  whales  are  evidently  all 


70 

driven  north  or  south  from  these  regions  of  the  ocean,  or 
they  are  more  probably  killed.  Our  enterprising  country- 
men from  New  England  have  hunted  them  in  every  sea,  till 
at  last  a  sperm  whale  is  rarely  met  with.  I  am  sorry  to  be 
informed  that  sometimes  the  "men  of  Massachusetts"  are 
not  select  in  their  attacks,  but  kill  the  young  as  well  as  the 
old. 

If  this  be  so,  it  is  not  surprising  that  these  interesting 
mammalia  of  the  deep  are  so  scarce.  So  long  as  money 
getting  selfishness  is  as  boundless  as  these  waters,  remon- 
strance will  probably  be  vain,  or  it  would  be  well  for  the 
whales  to  hold  an  indignation  meeting,  and  vote  to  present 
the  New  Bedford  whalers  with  some  of  the  modern  essays 
on  the  art  of  preserving  fish,  coupled  with  a  few  extracts 
from  the  "Best  way  to  get  rich."  We  were  sent  out  here  in 
part,  to  protect  the  whaling  interest,  but  who  will  come  to 
protect  the  whales  from  indiscriminate  slaughter?  We  have 
seen  but  very  few  fish  of  any  kind  on  our  way.  Several  days 
since  I  saw  a  school  of  young  porpoises  frisking  and  jumping 
along  by  us.  They  looked  very  much  like  a  school  of  boys 
just  let  loose  for  vacation,  and  giving  vent  to  their  bounding 
emotions  in  a  game  of  "leap  frog." 

Now  and  then  the  dorsal  fin  of  a  stealthy  shark  is  seen 
behind  us  cutting  through  the  waves.  They  always  come 
near  enough  to  smell  and  find  out  what  we  have  to  eat,  but, 
probably  on  account  of  the  shortness  of  our  provisions,  they 
have  not  presented  themselves  much  for  a  week  or  two.  Last 
Wednesday,  however,  one  of  the  round  nosed  species  paid 
his  respects  to  our  most  worthy  Commander-in-Chief,  by 
coming  close  up  to  the  rudder  and  looking  into  the-  stern 
port  of  the  cabin.  The  sea  was  quite  composed,  and  I  never 
before  had  so  fair  a  view  of  the  shark  afloat,  although  I  have 
seen  him  ashore.  He  was  not  of  the  largest  kind,  being  about 
seven  or  eight  feet  long,  I  should  think.  But  the  great  at- 
tractions were  the  two  little  striped  pilot  fish,  apparently  not 
more  than  four  or  five  inches  long,  which  he  brought  along 
with  him.  They  seemed  to  be  striped  similar  to  the  perch, 


71 

but  much  more  distinctly.  I  never  saw  them  before,  and 
was  surprised  to  see  them  so  small,  but  their  usual  size,  I 
believe,  is  larger. 

This  remarkable  association  of  the  shark  and  pilot  fish  is 
one  of  the  most  interesting  facts  of  natural  history,  and  one 
that  has  very  much  puzzled  her  votaries.     There  evidently 
is  a  good  understanding  of  some  kind  between  the  two,  but 
the  difficulty  is  to  know  what  its  purpose  is,  and  what  are 
the  terms  of  the  agreement  existing  between  fish  of  such 
unequal  power  and  different  natures.     Does  the  hungry  shark 
engage  the  valuable  services  of  the  pilot  fish  to  find  his  prey, 
and  pay  him  as  the  lion  does  the  jackal,  or  does  the  latter 
seek  the  protection  of  the  former  on  condition  of  such  ser- 
vices rendered?    Or  is  the  understanding  like  some  of  the 
friendly  alliances  of  recent  times,  where  each  of  the  high  con- 
tracting parties  undertakes  to  render  to  the  other  all  the 
assistance  in  his  power,  doing  as  little  injury  as  is  consistent 
with  circumstances?    This  is  certainly  an  important  question 
in  the  jurisprudence    of   natural  history,  and,  were  it  agi- 
tated, might  rival  another  fish  controversy,  which  once  shook 
all  Holland,  "Whether  the  fish  take  the  hook,  or  the  hook 
the  fish." 

But  it  is  much  to  be  doubted  whether  so  craving  an  appe- 
tite as  that  of  the  shark  would  let  him  enter  into  an  honest 
alliance  with  anybody.  It  is  particularly  worthy  of  notice 
that  the  pilot  fish  has  a  round  mouth  made  on  the  suction 
principle.  The  shark,  like  other  tricky,  fangry  politicians, 
wants  a  certain  amount  of  dirty  work  done,  and  employs 
other  fish,  who  want  a  living  (honest,  of  course,)  to  do  it, 
and  gives  them  harbor  just  so  long  as  they  are  valuable  to 
him,  and  when  they  are  not  they  are  either  kicked  away  or 
find  themselves  taken  in.  They  select  their  proper  tool  in 
the  pilot  fish,  whose  suction  mouth  exactly  fits  him  for  the 
office  of  stool  pigeon.  Low  politicians  everywhere  employ 
the  same  kind  of  agents,  who  have  precisely  similar  mouths. 
The  politicians  have  large  mouths,  like  the  shark,  with  a  glib, 
grand-flowing,  outspoken  tongue,  that  let  out  little  speeches 


72 

X 

and  narrow  policy  on  great  occasions,  and  blow  out  great 
principles  on  small  ones;  their  pilot  fish,  on  the  other  hand, 
have  the  close,  compressed  mouth,  with  a  still,  whispering, 
juicy,  sucking  in  style  of  speech,  that  makes  only  a  little  noise, 
but  presents  altogether  the  most  weighty  arguments. 

This  demagogue  of  the  deep,  who  thus  visited  us  with  the 
tools  of  his  trade  around  him,  was  strongly  suspected  of  hav- 
ing some  dishonest  designs  on  the  ship.  A  line,  with  a  hook 
and  piece  of  salt  pork,  was  thrown  out  to  him,  which  he  very 
greedily  took  in,  but  declined  being  taken  in  himself,  and 
went  off  with  both  hook  and  bait  to  chew  at  his  leisure,  think- 
ing perhaps,  with  some  other  disappointed  victims,  very  well 
of  the  inducement  held  out,  but  not  so  favorably  of  the  result 
realized.  We  saw  no  more  of  the  shark.  As  for  the  pilot 
fish,  they  doubtless  found  out  that  they  had  paid  their  re- 
spects to  the  wrong  cabin,  and  were  "gone  suckers."  Un- 
fortunately for  them  and  their  employer,  they  came  into  the 
presence  of  an  admiral,  who  has  an  abhorrence  for  sneaking 
politicians,  who,  as  a  man  and  an  officer,  is  distinguished  for 
the  practical  and  comprehensive  patriotism  of  always  doing 
his  own  duty  faithfully  and  ably,  and  expecting  all  who  are 
under  him  to  do  theirs. 

Another  week  has  gone  around,  and  again  it  is  Sunday 
night.  The  sea  is  dark  and  forbidding,  and  preaches  to-day 
a  most  solemn  discourse. 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 
THURSDAY,  September  30,  1858. 

LIFE   ON   SHIP   BOARD  —  THE   COMET. 

This  is  the  last  day  of  the  month,  on  the  first  of  which  we 
sailed,  and  still  we  have  a  long  sea  journey  before  us.  Our 
longitude  to-day  is  about  138  degrees,  and  latitude  about  14 


73 

degrees.  The  rain  squalls  of  Sunday  last  continued  more  fre- 
quently through  Monday.  On  Tuesday  we  lost  the  wind,  and 
applied  steam,  which  was  withdrawn  yesterday,  when  we 
were  favored  with  a  good  breeze.  The  wind,  however,  in  op- 
position to  the  current  I  suppose,  made  a  kind  of  cross-sea, 
the  effects  of  which  on  the  body  are  rather  hard  to  describe, 
but  very  easy  to  feel,  as  my  experience  yesterday  can  testify. 
The  jerking  sensation  is  the  most  obvious  one,  as  if  the  ship 
were  struggling  between  two  conflicting  forces.  Whenever 
we  have  them  I  feel  somewhat  nauseated,  and  yesterday  old 
Neptune  made  me  feel  slightly  the  force  of  his  trident,  in  an 
uneasy  fullness  of  the  head,  not  at  all  adapted,  however,  to 
the  expansion  of  ideas.  The  uppermost  idea  of  seasickness 
is  to  be  left  alone,  which  ashore  is  usually  regarded  as  selfish 
or  foolish,  when  it  is  not  heroic  or  godlike.  The  desire  of  soli- 
tude in  seasickness  may  be  attributed  to  despair  as  well  as 
anything,  I  should  think,  or  perhaps  to  that  morbid  mental 
state,  when  it  desires  most  that  which  it  can  least  get,  and 
solitude  in  a  ship  is  rather  a  dubious  thing,  such  is  the  com- 
pression of  life.  But  a  searching  seasickness  and  its  emo- 
tions are  very  different  from  the  slight  visitation  that  I  had 
yesterday.  I  trust  that  Neptune  has  given  up  his  "right  of 
search"  in  my  case,  although  he  will  indulge  in  an  occasional 
"visitation." 

The  fresh  breeze  of  yesterday  has  abated  a  good  deal,  and 
we  are  not  going  more  than  four  knots.  There  is  no  news 
aboard,  that  is  none  to  us,  though  I  dare  say  you  could  find 
some,  could  you  peep  into  one  of  the  ports  and  read  the  daily 
bulletin  of  events;  see  the  sights  and  hear  the  sounds;  the 
officers  discharging  their  various  functions  or,  when  not  im- 
mediately employed  with  other  duties,  reading,  talking,  some 
sitting  forward  and  through  the  curling  smoke  of  cigars  look- 
ing ahead  into  the  future,  making  the  next  port  or,  what  is 
quite  probable,  the  last  port  of  all,  the  snug  harbor  of  home; 
the  boatswain's  mates  bellowing  from  the  pits  of  their  stom- 
achs; the  gunners  continually  brushing  and  cleaning  their 
guns;  the  carpenters  hammering,  planing,  making,  repairing; 


the  sailmakers  overhauling  the  canvas,  stitching,  mending; 
the  crew  half  on  duty  above,  half  below,  making  or  shorten- 
ing sail,  scrubbing,  rubbing,  tarring,  painting,  eating  pork 
and  beans,  or  salt  junk  and  sea  biscuit,  or  drinking  their 
grog,  lying  down  to  sleep  or  stretched  over  the  decks  listlessly 
idle,  one  jolly  sailor  "climbing  up  aloft,"  another  unfortunate 
dragging  the  chains  of  punishment  below;  the  noisy  gather- 
ing of  the  ship  at  general  quarters  for  a  few  minutes'  war; 
the  quiet  muster  of  religious  peace  and  the  chaplain's  morn- 
ing and  evening  voice  of  earnest  prayer. 

All  this  and  much  more,  we  call  hum-drum  monotony, 
and  such  it  is,  but  still  it  is  the  monotony  of  life,  and  the 
monotony  of  life  is  very  much  the  same  thing  all  the  world 
over,  only  at  sea  it  is  more  concentrated  and  apparent,  and 
you  cannot  escape  from  it.  The  consciousness  that  we  can- 
not escape  from  it  will  make  anything  monotonous,  whether 
it  be  the  cell  of  the  convict  or  the  whole  world  of  the  misan- 
thrope, if  we  let  such  a  passive  state  of  the  mind  control  us. 
It  would  hardly  do  for  those  who  are  always  in  jail  ashore  to 
go  to  sea  unless  they  wished  to  adopt  a  slow  method  of  sui- 
cide. The  vast  freedom  of  the  ocean  instills  into  man's  very 
blood  the  wholesome  theory  and  practice  of  restraint.  If  he 
is  wise,  he  will  be  taught  its  virtue,  and  love  the  restraint 
for  the  sake  of  the  freedom;  if  he  is  foolish,  he  will  hate  both. 

For  several  days  past,  the  men,  in  their  various  divisions, 
have  been  drilled  in  the  practice  of  small  arms,  firing  at  tar- 
gets, etc.  In  two  or  three  instances,  through  careless  man- 
agement, muskets  have  been  accidentally  discharged  in  the 
ranks.  One  ball  went  into  the  lower  mizzen  spar.  Fortu- 
nately nobody  was  wounded.  It  is  hard  work  to  jnake  a 
soldier  out  of  a  sailor.  Jack  will  fight  very  well  himself  and 
in  his  own  way,  but  he  is  too  careless  and  independent  to 
think  much  of  forming  lines  and  turning  square  corners. 
The  ocean  rolls  in  all  his  movements,  and  he  requires  plenty 
of  room  to  swing.  As  they  do  not  always  see  to  having  their 
guns  half  cocked,  the  front  rank  stands  in  a  little  danger  of 
a  fire  in  the  rear,  so  that  they  are  ordered  to  load  facing  in 


75 

different  directions.  Jack's  fighting  element  is  not  the  land, 
and  in  a  close  encounter  there  would  be  some  fear  of  his  be- 
ing as  dangerous  to  friends  as  enemies.  But  he  has  done 
good  service  in  many  trying  situations  where  regular  troops 
have  effected  but  little.  His  bow  legs  are  not  quite  so  well 
fitted  to  surrounding  difficulties  ashore  as  at  sea,  but  the 
ocean,  which  has  crooked  his  legs,  has  also,  if  he  be  a  genu- 
ine sailor,  given  him  a  heedless  daring,  which  is  sometimes 
the  best  discipline. 


SUNDAY,  October  3. 

Our  longitude  at  12  was  a  little  more  than  142  degrees,  and 
latitude  above  170  degrees.  This  is 'indeed  a  Sabbath  of  rest 
to  us,  and  a  Sabbath  to  the  ocean!  We  are  surrounded  by  a 
calm.  The  Almighty  fiat  of  "peace,  be  still,"  moves  over 
the  waters,  and  they  cease  their  trouble.  If  the  sea  can  be 
said  to  have  any  beauty  at  any  time,  it  is  in  the  calm  and 
sunshine  of  a  day  like  this.  Ten  million  rays  of  light  fall  on 
the  vast  sheet  of  water,  and  every  ray  seems  to  bring  down  a 
little  sun.  The  day  looks  pale  that  hangs  o'er  such  a  sea. 
Nothing  disturbs  this  boundless  mirror  of  the  deep,  but  the 
long  round,  heavy  swells  that  move  noiselessly  along,  richly 
burdened  with  gems  of  sparkling  light.  The  horizon  breaks 
not  the  eternal  round  of  blue  expanse;  the  sea  prolongs  the 
arching  sky,  and  her  placid  depths  repeat  its  glory  a  thou- 
sand, thousand  times  to  light  up  the  calm  for  this  gentle, 
Sabbath  peace! 

But  the  great  celestial  event  of  the  cruise  is  the  comet, 
whose  appearance,  I  have  now  for  the  first  time  to  record. 
It  came  flaming  along  into  our  system  last  Friday  evening, 
when  our  latitude  was  about  15  degrees,  and  longitude  140 
degrees.  We  are  puzzled  a  good  deal  to  know  what  comet  it 
is,  but  suppose  it  to  be  the  one  which  was  expected  the  last 
year.  It  is  undoubtedly  apparent  to  you  as  to  us,  and  ere 
this  the  astronomers  have  told  its  story  as  much  as  mortals 


76 

can.  It  first  startled  us  a  little  to  the  right  of  Arcturus  north 
of  west;  but  has  since  been  travelling  with  lightning  speed 
towards  the  sun.  Its  bright,  beautifully  curved  tail  and  well 
defined  nucleus  make  it  far  more  conspicuous  than  the  comet 
of  1843,  as  I  recollect  it.  It  appeared  at  a  very  fortunate 
time  for  us,  as  we  were  sadly  in  want  of  some  striking  inci- 
dent to  relieve  this  tedious  voyage,  which  the  officers  say  is 
less  eventful  than  any  that  they  have  made.  We  only  wish 
that  this  erratic  wanderer  would  give  us  a  little  of  his  super- 
fluous speed.  The  loss  of  ten  knots  an  hour  would  not  trou- 
ble him  at  all,  and  be  of  great  service  to  us.  But  the  majestic 
traveller  of  the  sky  not  only  gives  us  no  aid,  but,  in  the  minds 
of  the  sailors,  will  undoubtedly  be  the  cause  of  all  our  calms 
and  whatever  bad  luck  may  betide  us. 

These  light  winds  are  to  be  regretted,  as  the  long  passage 
will  have  a  tendency  to  shorten  our  stay  at  the  Islands,  which 
we  look  forward  to  as  presenting  more  attractions  than  any 
of  the  South  American  countries  on  the  Pacific  coast.  Their 
very  name  awakens  an  interest  in  the  breast  of  every  lover 
of  religion  and  science.  The  cross  of  Christ  has  there  been 
carried  with  world  renowned  success;  navigation  points  to 
them  as  the  place  where  Cook  fell,  and  began  the  last  great 
voyage  to  eternity;  and  earth's  central  fires  find  there  their 
grand  outlet  in  the  immense  crater  of  Kilauea.  This  last 
great  wonder  some  of  us  are  looking  forward  to  as  the  one 
which  will  most  attract  our  interest,  and  we  hope  to  visit  it. 
Our  stay  will  be  so  short  that  we  fear  a  disappointment. 

I  must  make  a  short  story  to-day.  I  begin  to  feel  the 
length  of  the  voyage,  the  want  of  exercise,  and  perhaps  the 
want  of  fresh,  wholesome,  invigorating  food.  My  strength  is 
getting  short,  as  well  as  the  stock  of  provisions,  and  I  must 
shorten  my  talks  with  you  accordingly.  I  regret  that  I  can- 
not or  do  not  write  more  feelingly  to-day,  but  neither  the 
glory  of  the  comet  nor  craters  of  burning  lava,  I  fear,  can 
impart  new  elasticity  and  fresh  zeal  to  a  body  so  thoroughly 
salted;  so  I  will  throw  myself  on  your  forbearance,  knowing 
full  well,  that  you  can  sympathize  with  me  from  your  own 
Pacific  experience. 


77 

SUNDAY,  October  10. 

Another  week  has  gone  with  its  light  breezes,  and  still  we  are 
over  two  hundred  miles  northeast  of  Honolulu.  The  mountain 
slopes  of  Hawaii  (or  Owyhee),  however,  were  first  dimly  seen 
through  the  clouds  yesterday,  and  to-day  their  outlines  are 
much  better  defined.  We  have  been  sailing  by  this  island 
all  day,  about  thirty  or  forty  miles  off  from  it.  The  distance  it 
is  difficult  to  estimate,  from  the  great  obscurity  of  the  island. 
In  the  morning  the  summit  of  Mauna  Kea  was  partially  visible, 
towering  above  the  trade  wind  clouds,  but  very  indistinct. 
We  have  now  been  out  forty  days  in  this  wilderness  of  waters, 
which  within  two  or  three  days  was  the  length  of  our  passage 
to  Rio.  This  must  be  one  of  the  longest  passages  on  record 
from  Callao  to  the  Islands,  and  will  not  help  the  reputation 
of  the  Merrimac,  although  the  trades  this  side  of  the  line  have 
been  remarkably  light.  During  the  last  week  I  doubt  if  we 
have  averaged  a  speed  of  three  knots.  To-morrow  we  shall 
probably  raise  the  steam,  as  we  cannot  invoke  the  winds,  and 
arrive  at  Honolulu  on  Tuesday.  I  would  gladly  enlarge,  but 
do  not  feel  like  sitting  at  the  desk  longer  than  is  absolutely 
necessary;  so  I  can  only  state  facts  in  closing  this  long  jour- 
nal letter. 


TUESDAY,  October  12. 
We  anchored  off  Honolulu  this  morning. 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 

THURSDAY,  November  4,  1858. 

As  I  stated  in  my  last  long  letter,  which  I  sent  from  Hono- 
lulu by  way  of  the  ship  John  Marshall,  bound  for  San  Fran- 
cisco, we  arrived  at  that  port  the  twelfth  of  October,  after  a 
tedious  passage  of  42  days  from  Callao.  We  approached  the 


78 

Islands  in  pleasant  weather,  but  they  were  so  obscured  by 
clouds  that  we  could  see  only  portions  of  them,  and  generally 
at  too  great  a  distance  to  distinguish  much.  While  passing 
Owyhee,  the  largest  of  the  group,  by  arising  earlier  than  usual, 
I  had  a  distant  view  of  the  summit  of  the  Mauna  Kea,  its 
highest  land,  towering  above  the  clouds,  that  covered  nearly 
all  its  base,  about  fourteen  thousand  feet.  Through  the  glass 
I  could  distinctly  see  the  volcanic  rocks,  that  surround  its 
crater,  not  now  in  an  active  state.  Further  to  the  south  in  the 
dim  distance,  was  the  rounded,  dome-like  summit  of  Mauna 
Loa,  which  seemed  like  a  gentle  elevation  compared  with 
Mauna  Kea,  and  yet  it  falls  below  it  only  one  or  two  hundred 
feet.  Its  top,  or  rather  a  large  part  of  its  surface,  is  an  im- 
mense dome  of  bare  volcanic  rock  and  lava.  Not  far  from 
this  volcano  is  the  great  crater  of  Kilauea,  at  the  compara- 
tively moderate  elevation  of  four  thousand  feet.  These  moun- 
tains are  usually  more  or  less  covered  with  snow,  but  I  could 
see  none  on  Mauna  Kea. 

Passing  Owyhee,  we  came  opposite  Maui,  which  we  saw 
with  more  distinctness,  and  then  Molokai,  with  its  dark  basal- 
tic rocks,  which,  in  a  part  of  the  island,  rose  in  steep  cliffs 
from  the  sea.  We  passed  along  near  enough  to  see  with  the 
naked  eye  a  beautiful  cascade,  whose  silvery  stream  con- 
trasted finely  with  the  black  rock,  and  seemed  to  fall  from 
the  clouds  that  hung  above  and  along  the  brow  of  the  preci- 
pice. 

The  islands  did  not  present  that  tropical  appearance,  which 
I  might  have  been  led  to  expect  from  their  location  had  I 
not  been  informed  of  their  character  before  seeing  them.  This 
is  partly  due,  I  suppose,  to  their  volcanic  origin.  In  some 
places  the  aspects  were  very  similar  to  those  of  Terra  del 
Fuego.  But  in  other  places,  which  we  did  not  see,  the  eternal 
summer  has  spread  her  glories.  As  we  approached  Oahu,  on 
which  Honolulu  is  situated,  the  first  impression  was  not  favor- 
able to  its  fertility,  having  before  us,  as  we  did,  a  rather  deso- 
late outline  of  elevated  coast,  and  particularly  Point  Diamond, 
with  its  immense  crater,  long  since  extinct,  shaped  like  a 


79 

truncated  cone  with  furrowed  sides  entirely  destitute  of  vege- 
tation. But  as  we  came  nearer,  the  distant  mountains  and 
hills  began  to  give  some  indications  of  greenness,  so  refresh- 
ing to  eyes  tired  with  the  infinite  blue.  After  rounding  Point 
Diamond,  Honolulu,  with  its  little  fleet  of  whale  ships,  came 
into  view.  Although  the  bright  sunshine  was  somewhat  too 
dazzling  to  designate  forms  and  colors,  both  high  and  low- 
land assumed  a  greener  hue  and  along  the  beach  on  our  right, 
several  rows  of  the  color  palm  were  visible  with  their  nod- 
ding crests.  The  town  itself  appeared  a  good  deal  embowered 
in  trees,  and  aside  from  the  native  huts,  that  were  scarcely 
seen  in  the  distance,  looked  like  some  of  our  smaller  American 
cities.  It  is  very  pleasantly  located  along  the  shore  and,  for 
little  more  than  a  mile,  through  a  delightful  valley,  that  leads 
up  among  the  mountains.  Although  we  were  too  far  off  to 
get  anything  more  than  a  general  impression  of  the  place, 
yet  long  before  we  let  go  our  anchors,  there  were  two  or  three 
objects  standing  out  so  boldly  from  the  landscape,  that  it 
was  impossible  to  mistake  their  character.  These  were  the 
churches  and  their  spires  —  chiefly  attractive  above  all  things 
else,  its  white  walls  shining  in  the  sun,  was  the  large  native 
church.  In  everything  save  size,  perhaps,  it  looked  as  if  it 
might  have  taken  its  flight  from  one  of  our  New  England 
villages.  Like  too  many  of  its  prototypes  at  home,  it  did 
not  appear  to  be  distinguished  by  architectural  beauty;  its 
little  pointed  spire  was  not  quite  in  harmony  with  the  large 
proportions  of  the  building,  and  in  other  respects  a  regard  for 
a  great  first  want,  rather  than  an  after  coming  taste,  was  ap- 
parent even  at  that  distance.  But  it  was  no  time  nor  place 
for  criticism. 

Only  a  few  weeks  before  we  left  behind  us  the  more  costly 
and  elaborate  structures  of  Lima;  temples  not  of  religion, 
except  as  they  hide  it  from  the  world  rather  than  manifest 
it,  where  there  is  a  "visible  presence"  of  everything  that  re- 
lates to  the  eye,  and  a  visible  absence  of  the  soul.  How  dif- 
ferent appeared  that  bright,  ample  edifice  before  us  in  the 
distance!  It  was  just  the  object  that  the  stranger  would  ex- 


80 

pect  to  see  prominent  in  a  place,  that  better  than  any  other 
illustrates  the  power  and  worth  of  missionary  labor.  To  our 
eyes  it  embodied  a  history  as  well  as  a  faith.  It  suggested 
not  merely  the  zeal  and  patience  of  pious  missionaries,  but 
the  social  and  political  blessings  gathered  around  it.  It  arose 
before  us  in  the  distance  both  a  temple  to  God  and  a  pillar 
in  the  Hawaiian  state,  which  its  redeeming  virtues  created. 
But  it  also  had  an  interest  more  personal  to  ourselves.  As- 
sociation touched  it  with  the  first  glance  of  the  eye,  and  it 
consecrated  itself  anew  by  reminding  us  of  home! 

Unfortunately  we  could  not  anchor  in  the  harbor  proper, 
such  is  the  draught  of  the  Merrimac.  The  harbor  is  deep 
enough  in  itself,  but  the  passage  through  the  reef,  that  en- 
closes it,  is  not.  This  reef  is  composed  of  a  coarse  species  of 
coral  more  or  less  mixed  with  shells,  and  with  its  passageway, 
which  is  deep  enough  for  ordinary  vessels,  is  very  conven- 
iently located  to  form  a  quiet  and  well  protected  harbor  with- 
in. Outside  we  lay  exposed  to  the  sea,  with  its  heavy  swells, 
which  rolled  grandly  over  the  reef  and  then  found  their  level 
in  the  calm  waters  within.  Not  far  from  our  anchorage  was 
a  floating  buoy  projecting  from  the  sea,  with  a  bell  attached 
to  its  top,  swaying  with  the  waves,  and  ringing  forth  its 
somewhat  doleful  alarm  to  warn  the  mariner  of  the  dangerous 
reef.  Under  other  circumstances  its  tone  might  have  had 
the  quiet  soothing  sweetness  of  a  tinkling  cow  bell  in  an  even- 
ing of  June;  but  mingled  with  the  deep  under  note  of  the 
rolling  surf,  it  sank  quite  below  a  lullaby  of  rest  into  a  sol- 
emnity of  a  wakeful  lament  issuing  from  the  disturbed  spirit 
of  the  dangerous  waters. 


SUNDAY,  November  7. 

I  have  not  seen  the  chart  to-day,  but  we  are  so  much  be- 
calmed that  I  presume  our  position  does  not  vary  much  from 
that  of  yesterday,  when  our  latitude  was  about  34  degrees 
north,  longitude  136  degrees  west.  The  winds  were  light 


81 

through  most  of  last  week,  and  for  a  few  days  past  we  have 
been  almost  forsaken  by  them.  The  weather  has  been  cool 
and  bracing;  the  sky  continually  heavy  with  sluggish,  leaden 
clouds  giving  a  sombre  cast  to  the  sea.  Although  we  are 
about  eight  degrees  south  of  Boston  latitude,  our  weather  is 
very  similar  to  that  of  New  England  at  this  season.  The 
cool  air,  although  a  little  uncomfortable  at  times,  has  a  good 
effect  on  the  bodily  condition  of  all  on  board,  and  I  regret 
that  we  are  to  leave  it  so  soon  for  the  heat  of  Mexico  and 
Central  America.  Its  good  effects  are  particularly  percepti- 
ble at  the  mess  table.  Fortunately  we  were  able  to  lay  in  a 
good  supply  of  stores  of  all  kinds  at  Honolulu,  particularly 
of  fowl  and  sheep,  which  will  keep  us  from  the  famine  as- 
pects of  the  table  in  our  last  forty-two  days'  voyage  in  the 
wilderness  of  waters.  Among  other  stores,  we  have  a  good 
stock  of  the  old-fashioned,  striped,  crooked-neck  squashes. 
They  hang  in  a  graceful  festoon  by  the  side  of  the  ship,  over 
one  of  the  boats.  Their  appearance  is  certainly  not  alto- 
gether man-of-war-like,  and  forms  quite  a  singular  contrast 
to  the  black,  threatening  iron  mouths  of  thunder  beneath 
them.  But  still  I  suppose  some  of  the  American  boys  would 
think  this  quite  within  our  line  of  duty,  as  it  is  nothing  more 
or  less  than  showing  the  world  that  the  United  States,  in 
their  vulgar  parlance,  are  "some  pumpkins."  I  fear,  how- 
ever, that  the  world  will  not  be  much  the  wiser  for  such  peace- 
ful thunder,  as  they  will  have  to  go  below  on  entering  port. 

These  plain,  familiar,  wholesome  vegetables,  as  they  hang 
like  victories  of  peace  over  the  port  of  grim-visaged  war,  nat- 
urally remind  me  at  this  season  of  the  fragrant  autumnal 
harvests,  frosty  mornings  and  the  gorgeous  drapery  of  the 
forests,  as  well  as  of  Thanksgivings  and  pumpkin  pies.  The 
pies  are  usually  squash,  I  think,  but  pumpkin  seems  to  be 
the  generic  name  of  common  use.  I  am  more  reminded  of 
the  last  New  England  luxury,  as  I  have  not  often  seen  a 
genuine  pie  of  any  sort  out  of  New  England  or  her  influences 
and  associations.  If  it  was  associated  with  Christmas  in  the 
jealous  eyes  of  our  Puritan  forefathers,  it  was  doubtless  con- 


82 

sidered  by  them  too  good  to  be  banished.  Perhaps  there 
was  something  in  the  peaceful  and  happy  disposition  of  its 
upper  and  lower  crusts  that  was  significant  of  that  true  basis 
of  civil  and  religious  freedom  which  they  came  over  to  estab- 
lish. It  certainly  seems  to  be  true,  that  where  you  see  the 
strongest  love  for  freedom  you  see  the  best  pies!  They  have 
none  at  all  in  Spanish  America  and  you  may  judge  from  this 
what  sort  of  freedom  they  have!  But  whither  is  my  pen 
carrying  me?  I  have  not  yet  landed  you  in  Honolulu,  and 
surely  I  did  not  sit  down  to-night  to  give  you  a  disquisition 
on  pie  crust,  particularly  as  at  this  season  you  are  enjoying  a 
much  more  improving  discussion  of  the  subject  at  home. 

The  day  after  our  arrival  at  Honolulu,  notwithstanding  it 
rained,  I  went  ashore  to  call  on  friends,  and  engage  lodgings 
during  the  few  days  we  were  to  stay.  As  I  approached  the 
town  and  landed  on  the  coral  built  wharf,  I  was  more  struck 
with  the  American  look  of  the  place  and  of  the  people,  with 
the  exception  of  the  natives,  until  a  closer  familiarity  made 
known  several  foreign  accents.  As  it  was  raining,  I  did  not 
stop  on  my  way,  but  proceeded  directly  to  visit  my  friends, 
whom  I  found  pleasantly  located  in  the  north  part  of  the 
town  in  a  house  that  had  all  the  characteristics  of  a  well-kept 
American  home,  and  which  commanded  a  fine  view  of  the 
valley  and  mountains  towards  the  north. 

As  it  continued  raining,  and  suffering  somewhat  as  I  did 
from  our  long  voyage  over,  I  remained  in  the  house  the  great- 
er part  of  the  day,  stopping  to  dine  and  making  the  acquaint- 
ance of  all  its  very  pleasant  and  agreeable  inmates.  The  ad- 
miral passed  a  week  at  this  house,  and  as  he  has  quite  a  large 
number  of  old  friends  and  acquaintances  in  Honolulu  who 
called  on  him,  it  was  the  centre  of  happy,  informal,  social 
gatherings.  Mr.  Ladd,  the  proprietor,  and  his  wife  are  na- 
tives of  Maine.  It  is  due  to  them  to  say  that  their  hospi- 
tality, which  brought  many  of  the  officers  around  such  a  table 
as  they  have  seen  nowhere  else  in  the  Pacific,  and  introduced 
them  to  the  kind-hearted,  intelligent  circle  of  Americans  that 
met  there,  did  very  much  to  make  us  feel  that  at  Honolulu 


83 

we  had  got  home  again  among  relations  and  friends,  from  the 
discomforts  of  a  South  American  cruise.  I  arranged  with 
Mr.  Ladd  to  take  my  meals  as  a  boarder  at  his  table;  but  I 
found  afterwards  that  my  friends  were  before  me  and  made 
me  their  guest. 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MEERIMAC,  AT  SEA, 
THURSDAY,  November  4  (concluded). 

DESCRIPTION   OP   HONOLULU,    ETC.,  ETC. 

Having  engaged  a  large,  airy,  comfortable  room  in  a  pleas- 
ant mansion  near  by,  adorned  with  neatness,  that  rare  furni- 
ture in  the  Pacific  world;  with  no  pitching  or  rolling  motion 
on  it;  with  a  spacious  hall  and  verandas  on  two  sides,  look- 
ing on  pleasant,  home-like  scenes  around,  or  up  to  the  moun- 
tains or  off  to  sea  (where  I  didn't  trouble  myself  about  look- 
ing) ;  with  a  bed  large  enough  to  turn  over  in  and  find  a  fresh 
place;  with  windows  that  looked  out  on  nature  rather  than 
nine-inch  shell  guns,  and  that  let  in  her  sounds  and  balmy 
odors,  rather  than  bilge  water  and  cursing;  with  a  nice,  good- 
hearted  landlady  beneath  from  the  Emerald  Isle  and  a  young 
daughter,  herself  quite  a  gem;  having  done  all  this,  and  I 
thought  it  something  of  an  achievement,  I  returned  with  one 
of  the  officers  to  the  wharf,  where  we  found  that  we  were  too 
late  for  the  sunset  boat,  and  hired  a  couple  of  Kanaekas,  as 
the  male  natives  are  called,  to  row  us  alongside. 


MONDAY,  November  8. 

We  are  still  becalmed.  Latitude  33  degrees  north,  longi- 
tude 132  degrees  west.  Weather  cool  and  cloudy. 

When  I  returned  to  the  ship  after  my  first  visit  on  shore, 
I  intended  to  go  back  the  next  morning  and  take  possession 


84 

of  my  room;  but  unfortunately  a  change  of  air  and  diet,  the 
sudden  transition  from  pork  and  beans  to  an  extraordinary 
consumption  of  watermelon,  with  some  other  imprudences 
perhaps,  produced  a  violent  reaction,  keeping  me  afloat  all 
day  when  I  thought  that  I  was  going  to  get  rid  of  the  sea. 
The  next  morning,  however,  although  quite  weak  from  this 
visitation  as  well  as  from  the  voyage,  with  the  passed  assistant 
surgeon,  who  went  to  take  a  room  opposite  mine,  I  went 
ashore  again  and  located  myself  in  my  pleasant  quarters. 
Before  our  arrival  in  Honolulu  there  had  been  an  absence  of 
rain  for  a  long  time,  which  I  suppose  accounted  for  the  dry 
appearance  of  the  country  on  our  approach.  But  from  the 
day  after  our  arrival  till  our  departure  there  was  a  constant 
succession  of  sunshine  and  showers  that  were  doubtless  very 
necessary  for  vegetation,  although  not  so  convenient  for  some 
of  us  who  desired  to  take  a  closer  view  of  its  picturesque 
valley,  mountains  and  volcanic  ruins;  so  that  during  our  stay 
of  a  few  days  we  saw  almost  everything  in  the  distance  ex- 
cept Honolulu  itself,  and  that  certainly  came  very  near  to  us, 
and  gained  rather  than  lost  enchantment  by  its  familiarity. 
But  if  we  could  not  conveniently  visit  the  points  of  interest 
around  Honolulu,  it  was  certainly  a  source  of  pleasure  to 
gaze  upon  the  varied  landscape  spread  out  before  us;  the 
beautiful  valley  of  the  Nunanu,  gradually  ascending  among 
the  mountains,  with  its  smooth,  firm,  graded  road  marked, 
till  it  loses  itself  among  the  hills,  by  tasteful  residences  sur- 
rounded by  ample  grounds;  the  mountains  themselves  with 
their  sharp  outlines  and  different  shades  of  green  and  gather- 
ing clouds,  now  darkening  both  hill  and  vale  with  their  storms, 
now  touched  by  the  rainbow  pencils  of  the  sun;  nearer  to  the 
town  and  overlooking  it,  the  "Punch  Bowl"  crater,  its  earthly 
fires  long  since  gone  out,  but  now  faintly  imitated  by  its  little 
battery  that  occasionally  blazes  forth  an  Hawaiian  salutation. 
The  valley  of  Nunanu,  I  think  it  is  called,  leads  up  to  the 
Pali  or  precipice,  which  is  the  great,  and  almost  the  only 
point  of  interest  in  the  vicinity.  It  is  about  eight  or  nine 
miles  from  town,  I  think,  and  terminates  the  valley  road. 


85 

Nothing  but  the  incessant  rains  prevented  me  from  visiting 
it.  The  valley  ends  abruptly  at  the  precipice,  which  is  ele- 
vated about  eleven  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea, 
and  overlooks  a  large  valley  called  Palikoolau,  I  believe,  that 
is  walled  in  by  a  vast  amphitheatre  of  hills  and  bounded  in 
the  distance  by  the  boundless  ocean.  On  each  side  of  the 
precipice  arise  two  mountains  very  near  it  about  three  thou- 
sand feet;  the  Konahuaneic  (if  my  spelling  is  correct)  on  the 
right,  and  the  more  rough,  rocky  precipitous  Nunanu  on  the 
left,  with  its  vast  basaltic  front  to  the  north,  forming  a  part 
of  the  stupendous  wall  of  the  valley. 

There  is  a  tradition  connected  with  the  place  that  many 
years  ago  a  portion  of  the  forces  of  two  chiefs  who  were  fly- 
ing from  the  victorious  warriors  of  Kamehameha,  the  founder 
of  the  present  dynasty,  in  the  haste  of  their  retreat  were  pre- 
cipitated down  this  steep,  and,  it  is  needless  to  say,  destroyed. 
This  seems  wonderful  indeed,  but  such  places  generally  have 
some  wonderful  story  connected  with  them,  as  if  they  were 
not  sufficiently  marvelous  in  themselves.  Some  minds  seem 
to  be  able  to  mount  up  to  the  wonders  of  the  Divine  hand 
only  by  the  aid  of  some  strange,  startling  human  association; 
and  for  such  it  is  necessary  that  the  towering  precipice  should 
become  a  little  more  towering  by  somebody  tumbling  down 
from  it,  or,  if  this  is  not  convenient,  by  some  Sam  Patch  vol- 
unteering his  services  to  distinguish  both  himself  and  the 
place.  I  would  say  nothing  to  discredit  the  Hawaiian  tradi- 
tion, for  authentic  tradition  is  entitled  to  great  respect,  but 
I  would  detract  from  that  morbid  appetite,  which  makes  such 
tradition  necessary  to  give  its  air  of  doubt  and  mystery  to 
those  places  that  are  so  boldly  stamped  with  the  power  and 
truth  of  God. 

The  view  from  this  precipice  is  said  to  be  one  of  peculiar 
grandeur.  I  regret  that  I  could  not  visit  it,  so  violent  were 
the  trade  winds  that  blew  through  the  gorge,  and  so  constant 
were  the  rains.  Had  I  felt  as  well  in  the  hot  air  of  Honolulu 
as  I  do  now  in  this  cool  invigorating  temperature,  neither 
rain,  heat  or  wind,  I  think,  would  have  kept  me  back. 


86 

So  American  is  the  appearance  of  Honolulu  itself  that  I 
need  say  but  little  of  it.  It  has  a  foreign  and  native  popu- 
lation of  about  eight  or  nine  thousand,  I  should  think,  al- 
though I  am  writing  without  any  statistics  before  me.  From 
its  transient  character  I  infer  that  it  is  not  easily  determined. 
The  foreigners  consist  principally  of  Americans,  most  of  whom 
are  from  New  England  and  New  York  I  was  informed.  They 
certainly,  as  a  general  thing,  are  of  a  superior  character  to 
many  of  our  countrymen  in  South  America  who  have  gone 
there  from  the  over  stimulated  growth  of  California,  and  in 
some  instances,  perhaps,  from  her  overawing  justice. 

The  streets  of  Honolulu  are  sufficiently  wide  and  regular, 
and  as  far  as  I  saw,  clean.  The  dwellings  are  about  as  vari- 
ous in  style  as  in  towns  of  similar  size  in  New  England.  They 
are  generally  adorned  with  spacious  verandas,  and  the  better 
class  surrounded  by  ample  grounds,  dark  with  the  shade  of 
the  tamarind  and  other  tropical  trees,  or  decorated  with 
flowers,  among  which  the  geranium,  I  noticed,  has  a  very 
luxuriant  growth.  The  public  buildings  are  generally  neat 
and  substantial,  and  many  of  them,  as  well  as  some  of  the 
private,  are  mainly  constructed  of  coral,  which  is  taken  from 
the  flats  in  a  soft  state  and  hardened  by  exposure.  Con- 
spicuous among  these  are  the  Bethel  and  Sailors'  home,  pre- 
sided over  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Damon  from  Massachusetts,  a 
man  zealous  in  doing  good  to  the  sailor,  and  whose  little  semi- 
monthly paper  is  a  welcome  seaman's  "Friend"  in  the  cabin 
of  every  whaler,  circulating  with  every  Pacific  wind  and  cur- 
rent the  missionary  zeal  and  practical  philanthropy  of  its 
editor,  who  not  only  watches  after  and  prays  for  the  sailor 
while  in  port,  but  sends  him  forth  with  a  plain  little  chart  to 
guide  him  in  all  his  wanderings.  The  churches  are  made  on 
the  New  England  model.  I  saw  but  one  old  mission  church, 
whose  high  thatched  roof,  after  the  native  style,  looked  rather 
disproportioned  in  size,  if  not  in  weight,  to  the  rest  of  the 
edifice;  but  it  belongs  to  a  time  of  vastly  disproportioned 
means  and  ends,  and,  if  it  does  not  rise  in  harmony,  beauty 
and  strength,  it  towers  clear  above  the  reach  of  the  critic's 
eye  in  the  region  of  lofty  faith  and  enduring  purpose. 


87 

The  grass  huts  of  the  natives  are  more  or  less  scattered 
through  the  town,  although  they  are  chiefly  in  the  suburban 
parts.  Their  Malayan  features  seem  to  be  a  sort  of  compro- 
mise between  the  negro  and  Indian,  some  of  them  approaching 
the  one,  and  some  the  other.  Many  of  them  have  received 
a  good  common  education  in  the  missionary  schools,  and  re- 
side in  well-built  houses.  Under  missionary  instruction  their 
costume  has  undergone  an  entire  change.  Formerly  they 
did  not  trouble  themselves  about  the  revolutions  of  fashion, 
or,  making  a  literal  application  of  scripture,  give  themselves 
any  anxiety  as  to  wherewithal  they  should  be  clothed.  In 
regard  to  the  women,  the  tight  fitting  covering  of  nature, 
which  was  once  nearly  all  their  costume,  has  not  been  changed 
exactly,  but  has  been  made  the  basis  of  additional  improve- 
ments. They  now  go  to  the  opposite  extreme,  and  wear 
loose,  flowing  gowns,  tight  at  the  neck  and  enlarging  down- 
ward. If  they  have  any  symmetrical  beauty  of  form,  this 
style  of  dress  is  not  well  calculated  to  show  it  off;  but  I  sup- 
pose the  missionaries  thought  that  they  had  made  exposition 
enough  under  the  old  style  to  last  through  all  coming  genera- 
tions. The  dress  is  well  adapted  to  the  climate,  and  carries 
with  it  a  sweeping  denunciation  of  tight  lacing. 

The  men  are  generally  properly  clad.  Now  and  then  you 
may  see  a  fellow  going  along  who  hasn't  had  his  faith  fully 
established  in  the  modern  and  usually  received  doctrine  of 
pantaloons.  Such,  however,  are  probably  in  a  hopeful  way, 
and  while  not  wholly  confirmed  in  belief,  prefer  to  keep  their 
understandings  open  to  conviction.  The  natives  have  a  harm- 
less, good-natured  look,  and  the  results  of  the  missionary  la- 
bors clearly  show  their  susceptibility  of  improvement.  There 
are  educated  men  among  them  possessing  business  habits, 
good  sense  and  character.  Living  easily  and  cheaply,  they, 
of  course,  have  a  strong  passion  for  sport.  Formerly  they 
spent  much  of  their  time  in  the  water,  but  are  not  quite  so 
amphibious  now.  Horse  riding  seems  to  be  the  principal 
out-door  amusement,  particularly  with  the  women;  and  it  is 
no  one-sided  matter  with  them,  as  they  have  ther  long  calico 


88 

dresses  so  arranged  that  they  can  use  their  legs  in  the  most 
natural  way.  They  race  and  ride  furiously,  and  with  their 
high  colored  drapery,  and  sometimes  with  chaplets  of  flowers, 
they  make  the  streets  and  plains  of  Honolulu  quite  animated. 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MEBBIMAC,  AT  SEA, 
WEDNESDAY,  November  17. 

THE   MISSIONARIES  OP  THE   SANDWICH   ISLANDS,    ETC.,   ETC. 

Latitude  23  degrees,  58  north  longitude,  about  113  degrees 
west.  Since  Saturday  we  have  had  a  fair  fresh  wind  from  the 
north  and  have  advanced  rapidly  on  our  course.  On  Mon- 
day the  cool  and  agreeable,  though  cloudy  weather,  left  us, 
and  we  are  again  having  a  foretaste  of  the  tropics.  We  are 
fast  approaching  Cape  St.  Lucas  in  Southern  California.  But 
before  going  farther  I  will  go  back  for  a  moment  and  take 
affectionate  leave  of  the  Sandwich  Islands.  I  regret  that 
Honolulu  is  the  only  part  of  them  of  which  I  can  speak,  and 
our  flying  visit  does  not  permit  me  to  speak  of  that  except 
very  vaguely.  In  visiting  a  place  under  such  circumstances, 
nothing  is  easier  than  to  be  mistaken,  and  a  longer  residence 
would  perhaps  correct  or  qualify  some  of  my  impressions. 
Where  men  and  things  are  so  essentially  American,  of  course 
we  expect  to  see  an  American  civilization  with  its  virtues,  its 
vices  and  its  frivolities.  If  we  see  such  a  place  attired  some- 
what in  its  holiday  garb,  we  certainly  do  not  wish  rudely  to 
tear  away  the  outer  folds  of  its  attractive  drapery,  and  ex- 
pose faults,  which,  if  they  are  studiously  kept  concealed,  are 
to  that  extent  acknowledged  and  sacred  from  our  scrutiny. 
We  would  not  look  into  the  corners  and  byways  of  the  social 
state  and  seek  to  get  a  peep  at  all  its  scandals,  jealousies, 
trifles  and  small  concerns,  which  we  might  or  might  not  pre- 
sume to  exist,  as  a  part  of  civilized  weakness,  as  we  were  in- 
clined, but  rather  would  we  go  into  the  front  doors  that  are 


89 

thrown  widely  open  to  us,  and  see  the  civil  virtues  and  man- 
ners that  make  the  state,  whose  very  light  may  reveal  to  us 
blemishes  enough,  without  our  going  into  the  darkness  to 
find  them. 

Without  any  further  comments  in  particular,  I  can  hardly 
close  this  long  and  broken  letter  without  a  word  in  general  as 
to  the  results  of  the  missionary  labors.  These  are  too  well 
known  in  the  United  States  for  me  to  do  anything  more  than 
simply  to  bear  my  testimony  as  an  eye-witness  for  a  brief 
day  or  two,  in  an  important  part  of  their  field  of  operations. 
Many  of  the  missionaries,  who  were  sent  from  the  United 
States  several  years  since,  are  now  quite  independent  of  the 
home  society,  and  either  preach  to  societies  that  wholly  or 
partially  sustain  themselves,  or  are  engaged  in  teaching  or 
business  more  or  less  identified  with  the  missionary  enter- 
prise. 

It  requires  but  little  observation  and  reflection  to  be  con- 
vinced that  the  Hawaiian  state  with  its  young  but  strength- 
ening civilization,  weak  and  humble  though  it  be,  is  founded 
on  the  works  and  has  been  upheld  by  the  hands  of  these  pious, 
self-sacrificing  Christians.  The  strength  of  its  corner-stone 
and  the  simplicity  of  the  edifice  come  from  their  depth  and 
plainness  of  purpose.  That  little  mission  church  of  twelve  or 
fourteen  men  and  women,  organized  in  the  vestry  of  Park 
street  church  in  Boston,  in  the  autumn  of  1819,  to  be  trans- 
planted to  these  then  barbaric  isles,  went  forth,  like  the  Pil- 
grims of  old,  with  the  noiselessness  of  principle  and  power, 
with  only  the  quiet  melody  of  hymn  and  peace  of  prayer, 
too  lowly  to  catch  the  lofty  ear  of  earth,  but  trumpet  tongued 
to  the  condescending  Heavens,  and  established  itself  in  the 
isles  of  the  sea,  to  start  the  work  of  Christian  revolution.  Be- 
fore the  retarded  but  steady  progress  of  that  little  band  the 
idols  fell,  and  heathens  turned  from  stones  to  God.  Guided 
by  their  hands  and  springing  up  in  their  pathway  arose  an 
Earthly  State,  while  their  lips  were  yet  teaching  the  simple 
natives  of  that  kingdom  which  is  not  of  this  world.  Watch- 
ing over  its  growth,  they  gave  it  a  just  and  benevolent  policy, 


90 

and  educated  the  rulers  to  execute  it.  Not  only  have  they 
enlightened  these  waste  places  with  Christianity,  but  made 
them  nurseries  of  its  teachers,  from  which  more  than  one 
dark  skinned  missionary  has  gone  forth  to  labor. 

But  all  this  is  common  knowledge.  It  is  not,  however,  so 
generally  known  that,  great  as  were  the  obstacles,  that  the 
low  condition  of  native  heathen  placed  before  the  mission- 
aries, the  fire  in  the  rear  by  the  heathen  of  civilization  was 
far  more  formidable.  For  every  missionary  of  light  we  have 
sent  out  a  thousand  missionaries  of  darkness.  The  same 
vessel  that  takes  out  the  humble  teacher  of  God  may  have 
enough  of  the  essence  of  the  devil  in  it  to  overturn  the  work 
of  his  life.  It  is  not  so  much  to  be  wondered  at  that  Chris- 
tianity has  made  the  heathen  what  it  has  in  one  place,  as 
that  civilized  wickedness  has  made  them  no  worse  than  it 
has  in  all.  "The  heathen,"  as  Channing  says,  "abhor  our 
religion,  because  we  are  such  unhappy  specimens  of  it."  The 
American  missionaries  and  their  labors  in  the  Sandwich  Islands 
have  suffered  not  only  from  the  brutal  lusts  and  passions  of 
common  sailors  and  those  who  control  them,  but  from  the 
jealous  interference  and  hostility  of  foreign  officials  high  in 
authority;  sometimes  from  Englishmen  who  have  either  gone 
beyond  their  power,  or  taken  advantage  of  their  position  to 
act  for  themselves;  always  from  Frenchmen,  who  from  the 
first,  have  been  uniform  in  their  insolence,  by  dictating  to 
the  Hawaiian  government  the  terms  of  admission  to  their 
two  missionaries,  Jesuitism  and  rum;  from  so-called  Ameri- 
can citizens;  on  one  occasion  at  least,  from  an  American  naval 
officer,  who,  by  his  conduct,  showed  that  he  carried  with 
him  the  brute  force  of  his  country  and  nothing  else.  •  But, 
fortunately  for  the  English  and  American  naval  services, 
there  are  instances  of  an  opposite  character;  and  our  recent 
visit  there  made  it  clear  that  there  is  one  American  officer, 
who,  as  captain  of  the  Sloop-of-war  Boston,  visited  the  is- 
lands in  1843  in  a  critical  juncture  of  their  affairs  and  who 
now  as  admiral  was  welcomed  back  again  not  only  by  mis- 
sionaries, but  by  all  who  knew  his  name  and  cherished  his 
virtues. 


91 

Doubtless  there  is  another  side  to  this  picture,  but  almost 
too  obscure  for  notice.  The  missionaries  are  quite  human, 
and  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  in  carrying  the  virtues  of 
Christians  before  them  they  have  left  the  faults  of  men  be- 
hind them.  Unacquainted  with  civil  affairs,  as  in  a  great 
measure  they  are,  and  having  a  large  influence  over  both 
rulers  and  people  whom  they  have  reared  up,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  that  they  should  sometimes  err  by  pressing  a 
point  too  far;  that  they  should  fail  in  trying  to  adapt  the 
various  and  shifting  policy  of  men  and  of  states  to  the  too 
rigid  requirements  of  their  principles,  which  they  can  better 
shape  into  politics  by  beginning  at  the  foundation  in  shaping 
men;  that  in  the  manners  and  minor  morals  of  the  people 
they  should  in  some  respects  lose  sight  of  time,  place  and 
circumstances  in  placing  their  own  old  habits  and  associa- 
tions as  Americans  on  the  same  level  with  their  convictions 
as  Christians,  and  in  bringing  them  along  as  stiff  and  formal 
guides  among  the  smaller,  yet  important  matters  of  partial 
tastes  and  innocent  customs. 

Now  all  this  and  much  more  is  not  to  be  wondered  at. 
The  missionaries  from  their  education  are  not,  perhaps,  in 
the  common  acceptation  of  that  much  abused  term,  practical 
men;  but  in  its  higher  use  none  are  more  so.  That  term 
"practical"  seems  to  swing  in  some  undefined  region  between 
heaven  and  earth.  It  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  remark 
that  no  duly  authorized  convention  has  yet  determined  what 
sort  of  a  creature  the  "practical  man"  is.  There  seems  to 
be  such  an  animal  running  at  large  and  yet  nobody  can  ex- 
actly describe  it.  Until  the  question  is  settled  it  will  be  a 
matter  of  grave  doubt  in  some  minds,  whether  the  man  who 
saws  off  his  neighbor's  leg  with  an  unprofessional  handsaw, 
or  the  surgeon  who  is  running  after  his  professional  tools,  has 
the  most  practical  turn.  Handsaw  would  probably  get  a 
good  many  votes.  In  the  meantime  it  may  be  observed  that 
a  man's  blunders  in  doing  anything  are  not  apt  to  prevent 
his  being  called  practical,  so  long  as  he  does  not  profess  to 
do  it.  But  let  him  take  up  the  profession  and  then  blunder 
a  little,  see  how  quick  his  practical  head  will  come  off. 


92 

The  missionary  professes  to  do  good,  and  occasionally 
blunders,  think  some  in  too  much  or  too  little  zeal,  or  mis- 
directed zeal,  or,  what  is  often  really  meant,  in  being  a  mis- 
sionary at  all.  Such  will  give  him  no  credit  for  the  good  he 
does,  but  on  the  contrary,  let  his  blunders  stand  as  a  balance 
against  him.  Such  men  are  practical  in  their  folly.  A  good 
deed  is  the  most  practical  of  all  things;  and  doing  it  is  the 
most  practical  action  of  life.  It  is  the  most  practical,  if  for 
no  other  reason  than  that  which  so  reflects  upon  us  all,  be- 
cause to  be  done  habitually  it  requires  so  much  practice. 
Not  familiar  with  it,  as  too  many  of  us  are,  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  we  should  be  reluctant  to  attribute  it  as  a  prac- 
tice to  those  who  make  it  a  profession.  We  are  such  poor 
missionaries  at  home  that  it  becomes  natural  to  mistrust 
those  who  go  abroad.  It  is  this  professing,  this  public  ad- 
vertising to  do  good  where  we  cannot  see  it,  and  will  not  take 
the  trouble  to  hear  of  it,  that,  with  some  individuals,  destroys 
all  its  practical  value.  We  talk  of  "the  heathen  at  our  doors." 
Who  and  what  made  them  so?  If  the  vices  of  civilization 
makes  its  tens  of  heathen  at  home  are  its  virtues  so  weak 
that  they  cannot  spare  here  and  there  one  to  convert  mil- 
lions of  heathen  abroad?  We  lack  confidence  in  our  mis- 
sionaries for  professing  to  do  good  abroad,  too  much  because 
they  profess  it,  forgetting  that  organized  action  must  be  ac- 
companied by  some  profession;  but  when  will  our  own  un- 
organized individual  efforts  teach  us  that  faith  in  the  pro- 
fessed goodness  of  others  best  comes  from  acted  goodness  in 
ourselves? 

But  without  regards  to  the  limits  of  this  letter  I  am  run- 
ning fast  and  far  into  disquisition.  We  should  think  a  little 
more  of  the  practical  value  of  missionaries  to  the  world,  if  we 
could  only  get  rid  of  their  practical  wants. 

These  cursory  observations  are  prompted  more  particu- 
larly by  what  I  saw  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,  and,  however 
general  may  be  their  application,  I  am  the  more  induced  to 
make  them  in  connection  with  the  missionaries  there,  as  I 
can  speak  of  their  labors  there  from  witnessing  their  results. 


I  seek  not  to  defend  the  whole  class  in  all  regions,  some  of 
whom  perhaps,  from  personal  unfitness  or  other  cause,  have 
not  been  true  to  their  high  calling  in  Christ,  and  made  their 
works  manifest.  I  would  defend  only  the  good  from  the  in- 
discriminate attacks  of  fault  finding  men,  who  will  be  more 
able  to  judge  correctly  of  the  missionary  zeal  of  others  when 
they  learn  better  what  a  thing  it  is  to  bear  the  cross  themselves. 
The  devoted  missionary  has  a  reward  for  his  virtues  in  heaven, 
if  not  on  earth;  as  for  his  errors  of  judgment,  God  requires 
no  apology;  man  deserves  none. 


U.  S.  STEAMER  MERRIMAC,  AT  SEA, 

SUNDAY,  November  21. 

Latitude  about  18  degrees  north,  longitude  103  degrees 
west.  There  was  one  thing  in  leaving  the  Sandwich  Islands 
which  I  ought  to  describe  if  I  could,  and  that  is,  my  most 
magnificent  disappointment  in  not  seeing  the  great  crater  of 
Kilauea,  in  the  island  Owhyhee.  In  the  height  and  depth 
of  that  disappointment  there  is  a  sublimity  which,  for  ought  I 
know,  would  surpass  that  of  the  crater  itself,  with  its  immense 
lake  of  liquid  fire.  It  was  the  great  natural  phenomenon  that 
I  desired  above  all  things  to  see  in  the  Pacific;  but  I  am  not 
suffered  to  get  at  the  climax  of  my  aspirations.  As  it  is, 
however,  it  is  the  Great  Tremendous  Unseen;  the  Immense 
Hole  in  my  Pacific  experience,  which  cannot  be  filled,  and, 
certainly,  such  wonders  as  these  are  worth  anybody's  con- 
templation. Besides  it  will  furnish  an  excellent  dark  ground 
in  memory  to  throw  into  relief  the  bright,  pleasant  associa- 
tions of  Honolulu.  And  then  there  is  a  practical  view  of  the 
disappointment  that  makes  its  awfulness  appear  more  favor- 
able, and  that  is,  I  have  not  got  my  feet  or  my  nose  burnt, 
or  something  worse  perhaps,  and  you  are  saved  the  trouble 
of  reading  two  or  three  more  sheets  of  letter. 


94 

We  are  gliding  along  pleasantly  this  beautiful  Sabbath,  as 
we  have  been  for  the  last  week.  The  weather  is  fair  and  fills 
every  sense  with  pleasure.  The  nights  are  brilliant  with 
moonlighted  glory,  and  Jupiter  and  Venus  look  luminously 
forth  from  the  eastern  and  western  heavens.  We  have  been 
in  sight  of  the  mountainous  Mexican  coast  all  day,  but  it  is 
too  far  off  to  be  seen  with  any  distinctness.  The  great  vol- 
cano of  Colima,  twelve  thousand  feet  high,  I  have  taken  a 
long  look  at  to-day  with  the  eye  and  glass,  but  its  great  dis- 
tance and  the  hazy  atmostphere  do  not  favor  my  researches. 
Colima  is  said  to  be  an  active  volcano,  and  I  desire  as  far  as 
possible  to  fill  up  that  great  gulf  of  disappointment;  but 
Colima  doesn't  seem  inclined  to  get  into  any  such  hole  at 
that! 

Several  birds  have  come  off  from  the  coast  to  greet  us. 
They  are  most  welcome  visitors;  but  the  mischievous  sailor 
boys  give  the  little  wanderers  no  peace.  There  is  one  con- 
stantly climbing  the  rigging  to  catch  them,  and  I  have  come 
to  the  conclusion,  that  it  is  well  that  boy  came  to  sea,  or  he 
would  have  robbed  all  the  birds'  nests  in  his  township.  That 
delicate  little  thing,  not  so  beautiful  as  interesting,  the  com- 
mon sparrow  that  jumps  about  our  doors  flits  around  us  for 
harbor  and  protection  after  his  rash  venture  at  sea  in  an  un- 
favorable wind.  And  what  is  more  remarkable,  that  wise 
bird  of  Minerva,  the  owl,  last  evening  made  us  one  of  his 
nightly  visits.  To-night,  or  rather  this  evening,  two  or  three 
of  them  appeared  on  our  ropes  and  spars,  looking  down  with 
their  grave  visages  on  our  sublunary  life  and  progress.  I  do 
not  wonder  that  these  oracular  looking  guests  of  ours  should 
fly  from  miserable,  wretched  Mexico,  if  they  have  any  of  their 
old  reputed  wisdom  left,  and  come  under  the  stars  and  stripes, 
notwithstanding  the  formidable  talons  of  the  American  eagle. 
But  the  poor  creatures  will  find  the  exchange  not  altogether 
an  agreeable  one,  as  Young  America  is  after  them  too.  A 
few  of  us  have  what  we  call  an  "Owl  Club,"  keeping  rather 
a  late  watch,  such  pleasant  nights  as  this,  on  the  little  stem 
deck;  and  of  course  we  feel  quite  honored  by  this  visit  of 


95 

our  Patron  Saints.  No  sooner  did  the  president  of  the  club 
make  his  appearance  between  eleven  and  twelve  o'clock  last 
night  than  two  pairs  of  big  eyes  were  hovering  over  us  to  wit- 
ness the  organization  of  the  club  and  see  if  we  had  our  eyes 
open  wide  enough  to  take  in  all  the  important  matters  of  the 
day! 

We  had  an  excellent  discourse  to-day  from  the  chaplain. 
As  he  stood  among  the  heavy  guns  preaching  his  earnest 
words  of  truth  and  soberness,  I  could  but  wish  that,  as  they 
left  his  mouth,  they  might  be  thundered  forth  from  those 
black,  iron  mouths  of  war  over  the  length  and  breadth  of 
priest-ruined  Mexico,  whose  richly  gifted  land  was  dimly 
visible. 

The  weather  is  becoming  quite  warm,  and,  as  it  is  rather 
uncomfortable  sitting  here  at  my  desk  I  think  that  I  will  go 
up  on  deck  with  the  moon  and  the  moon-eyed  owls. 

We  are  about  three  hundred  miles  from  Acapulco. 


TUESDAY,  November  23. 

The  latitude  and  longitude  I  have  not  seen  to-day,  but  we 
are  about  fifty  miles  north  of  Acapulco,  running  along  under 
steam  within  three  and  four  miles  of  the  shore.  It  is  really 
delightful  to  sit  at  the  port  and  look  upon  the  mountain 
coast  of  Mexico,  covered  everywhere  with  green  forest  down 
to  the  rocks  or  the  beach  sand  that  line  the  shore.  But  be- 
yond those  misty,  green  hills  what  deeds  of  cowardice,  treach- 
ery and  wrong  are  probably  on  this  day  done!  With  the 
glass  we  can  easily  see  the  principal  features  of  the  land- 
scape, the  finely  modeled  palms;  the  rocks  jutting  out  here 
and  there  from  the  dark  green  woods;  now  and  then  the 
light,  filmy  smoke  curling  up  above  the  trees  from  some  In- 
dian huts;  a  light  yellow  streak  occasionally  in  the  midst  of 
the  rich  masses  of  green,  indicating  a  land-slide;  and  some- 
times a  blue,  misty  summit  in  the  interior,  that  overlooks 
this  land  of  beauty  and  sorrow,  which,  like  Peru,  is  paying 


the  penalty  for  the  past  and  avenging  the  blood  of  the  mur- 
dered Montezumas. 

I  have  other  writing  to  do  and  must  forbear.  We  shall 
probably  come  to  our  anchorage  in  Acapulco  harbor  to-mor- 
row morning,  lying  outside  to-night.  Acapulco  is  a  small 
place,  and  like  all  the  rest  of  the  places  on  the  coast,  is  un- 
interesting as  possible.  The  harbor  is  a  fine  one,  and  the 
scenery  around  is  said  to  be  attractive;  very  much  like  what 
we  see  to-day.  It  formerly  had  quite  a  commerce  with  the 
East,  which  gave  it  some  importance.  But  there  are  prob- 
ably five,  if  not  six,  mail  bags  there  from  the  United  States 
waiting  for  us!  This  important  fact  gives  it  a  great  present 
importance  in  our  eyes,  particularly  as  we  have  been  without 
mails  for  three  months.  If  Acapulco  has  lost  her  commerce 
of  merchandise,  she  certainly  enjoys  just  now  a  magnificent 
commerce  of  the  affections!  We  go  there  for  our  mails,  and 
to  communicate  with  the  United  States.  We  shall  remain 
but  a  few  days,  and  then  probably  go  to  Central  America 
where  we  have  been  ordered.  I  will  leave  a  space  to  announce 
our  arrival. 


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